Look for a Diamond in the Rough

A few weeks ago I travelled to Quebec City for a business trip. I was planning on bringing my snowboard to sneak in some fun time at Mont Sainte Anne, but rain in the forecast and a lack of snow changed my plans. Instead I brought my running gear. My revised plans were to start from my hotel, the Marriott Courtyard next to Old Town Quebec and run through the Plains of Abraham / Battle Field Park.

When I arrived at the Quebec Airport it was 4:30 in the afternoon and already dark. The rain was steadily coming down and the temperature was a very cool 40 F. I can run in a light rain and even in a soaking rain if the temperatures are warm enough, but the cold rain and wind this evening would have been miserable, and I don’t run for misery.

By the time I reached my hotel the rain had subsided to a very light mist, so I started to negotiate with myself, should I run or not. I really hate to miss a run and I was really looking forward to running in Quebec City for my first time. I then received a text message from two of my business colleagues that were at the hotel; they wanted to make dinner plans. I also enjoy business dinners and Quebec City has many wonderful restaurants within walking distance from our hotel. The weather for running seemed a bit rough, not the perfect gem I was looking for that night. However, my colleagues agreed to wait for me so I could run while they had a beer in the hotel bar. So I decide to run.

While donning my running cloths I kept changing my mind from running to joining my colleagues for a beer. Then I realized I didn’t bring my fleece running top, which I normally wear for the kind of temperatures that night. That was it, I decided not run. But then a voice inside, the voice that got me through my cancer fight and chemotherapy, said, “You better run or you’ll regret it”. I’ve learned to listen to that voice, so I took a chance with just my windbreaker top over my long sleeve running shirt and headed out the door. That night I would discover a true gem of an experience.

I started my run by crossing through the fortress wall into Old Town and running towards the Citadelle (fort) along the Old City wall on the west side of Old Town. I warmed up quickly running up a steep hill; my chance on clothing paid off and I remained quiet comfortable during the entire run.

The quite road was lit by old world street lamps. On my left were quaint 200 year-old buildings which housed people’s homes, tiny restaurants and tiny hotels. On my right I passed an active livery stable; for a moment I felt I was 200 years back in time.

Eventually I reached the Citadelle and ran on top of the fortress wall towards the St. Lawrence River. I was pretty much at the highest point in Old Town and had a commanding view of the city. Normally this place is crawling with tourists, but on this misty cool night I was completely alone, leaving me with an odd sense of solitude in the center of a bustling city. I then turned towards the southwest and headed into Battle Field Park.

In the park, old world streetlamps lit the way as I ran on empty serpentine streets that snaked they way over many hills, through open grassy areas and dense woods. The misty rain gave an eerie and mystical feeling by casting halos around the distant lights of the stately government buildings near the northwest edge of the park. The night was a truly magical experience.

I didn’t expect to see anyone in the park, but I did come across an occasional runner. Then in one of the darkest parts of the park and on a relatively long straight stretch of the park street that descended down a hill only to ascend another, I saw a group of people in the middle of the street. As I approached closer I realized they were doing some form of regimented calisthenics as a female coach barked out commands in French like a drill sergeant. As I passed through the group I kept my stares to myself to give them privacy and wondered if they were some elite female athletic team, maybe a Canadian college hockey team. I couldn’t see them very well since they were dressed for the weather, thus concealed under athletic hoods.

After my five mile run I returned to my hotel, showered, and still had time to meet my colleagues for a beer in the hotel bar. They thought I was a very dedicated runner to run in such awful conditions and I couldn’t say anything that would convince them that I actually had a wonderful and magical time. Their impression of the evening is that it was dreary, wet and cold, only good for sitting inside. But to me the conditions could not have been more perfect for a run outside.

We are all susceptible to falling into the trap of waiting for the ideal conditions to do something, be it a run, walk, hike, a relationship or a job, just to find ourselves complacent, sitting on the couch while atrophy sets into our bodies, minds and spirits. We only look for those perfectly cut stones while passing up some precious uncut gems, when all it requires is for us to take a chance, and then open our eyes to the true beauty in world around us.

After I reached my halfway point in Battle Field Park and turned to run back in the opposite direction, I once again came across the elite group of athletes that were still moving to the commands of their coach. Just as I reached the group they started to run alongside of me but on the other side of the dimly lit street. When we reached an intersection, without warning, they abruptly turned across my path. I nearly ran into one of them, who exclaimed something in French, translation probably, “oops”. Then I was truly amazed at what I saw when I peered into the face of the female. She was no elite college athlete but a senior lady. My guess this was some group of senior women that have signed up for a grueling regiment of outdoor exercise, rain or shine. But the image that will remain burned in my memory is what I saw on the senior lady’s face while she performed strenuous exercise to the commands of a drill sergeant like coach on that dark cold misty night in Quebec City. She had a smile from ear to ear.