the salt mines

i finally caught a glimpse of why mr. jackson might refer to the daily grinds around the guelph trails as the 'salt mines'. out for some intervals yesterday with the group, running 6 minute pieces around the bubble. a road mixed with gravel, dirt, grass, divets and hills, the running isn't easy. the sun came back out yesterday, the heat was on, and i was not. about halfway through our third piece the body started to shut down. as the guys flew past me, dust was kicked up into my face and sweat dripped into my eyes. the lips went chapped, the stride shortens, the breathing heavy. the group well up the road, i laboured home at a pace slower than my warm up. it is in such a state of dehydration and glycogen depletion that we begin to hallucinate, or in the very least, look for possible sources of energy. on monday and wednesday it was the pear tree in the arboretum that saved me. today, i had no pears. the river looked good. i stooped down and cupped my hands. when i lifted what i could from out of the small ravine, i noticed the murkiness and that the source of the water came directly from a pipe. not always an ideal way to hydrate. i was well enough to know that i had to move on.

trudging on. this road is long.

empty pop can caught my eye. wow, ian. you're fucked.

chris drove me home from the edge of what i now know to be my own personal salt mine. the moment when the sweat and dirt met in my eye will not be soon forgotten. even if that's not what rob means by 'salt mines', i can at least confide in what emotions might be meant by that phrase. sweat, the teary eyes it evokes, and the hopes of a silver lining when the dust settles in the coming weeks.