Day 53 - 61 Christchurch 6.3 Earthquake - running training forgotten

22 Feb, Tuesday morning. I headed out to do my usual volunteer time at a Day Centre for people with dementia, the Harakeke Club. I intended to get back to a running schedule that afternoon cause I was feeling better after my bout of illness. However, 9 minutes before I was meant to leave, at 12:51, the building seemed to explode. I staggered out of the kitchen to the lounge area, dropped (was thrown?) to the floor and crawled to a table to hang onto a leg so I wouldn't get tossed around too much. It went on forever it seemed. The noise was incredible as the building was bucked around and things flew out of the kitchen cupboads and fridge to crash on the floor. Chaos and confusion ensued. As the movement and noise subsided we quickly got everyone sitting down on big comfy chairs in the lounge away from the windows and the staff started singing songs with our oldies ("It's a Long Way To ...", etc).

The aftershocks continued for hours. I stayed on to help clean up and comfort people - then offered to drive some people home. The usual driver of the van couldn't get through - the traffic was in gridlock as people escaped the city. So I set out with two people. It was very scary for all of us. A drive that would normally take 15 minutes took me 3 hours - as I forded streams, drove over hills of liquifaction and waited endlessly  in a car lineup for forward movement and prayed that I wouldn't end up stuck in a deep mudhole like some of the vehicles I passed. Finally my charges were dropped off at their homes and safe with their worried families. I arrived at my home afraid of what I might find. The house was standing and appeared unharmed from the outside. Inside was a mess. Everything had been tossed about and thrown off the walls. The kitchen was an explosion of broken glasses and dishes, food from both fridge and freezer, the floor covered in a huge mess.

It was starting to get dark by this time so I ignored the mess - it could wait for the morning - and I concentrated on preparing my "get away" gear in case I had to escape in the middle of the night. The aftershocks were huge and scary. The house rattled and shook until I wondered how it could possibly stay standing. I lay down on the bed fully clothed clutching a torch (flashlight) and transistor radio, ready to flee at any moment. Not a wink of sleep for me that night! Willing the dawn to appear so I could see to get on with the clean-up. Bruce was overseas so I was on my own at this point. He was making arrangements to get back to New Zealand as soon as possible.

So running? Well, it took a back burner for me during the week to follow this event! I did get out to walk lots but that was more to collect water, supplies, and see what was happening in the neighbourhood. I was in survival mode and helping my neighbours.

So maybe I'll go for a run tomorrow. My running shoes sit by the back door waiting for me.

Judy Thoughts: I realise I am not yet "a runner". And that's OK. I think a runner would have felt compelled to run as part of the day no matter what was going on - a strong coping mechanism to get through the crisis. A way to get around and check out the scene. It has been way down on my list of things to fit into my day - but I haven't given up. I need to re-set the goal and make another start. And see it as a valuable strategy to help me "get through".