june 30/4 MILES

67 degrees
76% humidity
dew point 57
mississippi river road path, north/mississippi river road path, south

A good run. Followed my plan: Run 1.25/Walk 30 sec./Run 1.25/Walk 1 min/Run 1.5. Ran with headphones, so I didn’t really think that much, which was fine.

I’ve been thinking more about open swimming lately. Here’s a abecedarian poem about it:

Open Swim

Annoying things happen during an open swim.
Bad weather, big waves
Causing choppy water that can make me
Drift off the course. Bright sun in my
Eyes, blinding me. Bright sun on my
Face, burning me.
Goggles that can fog up, although that
Hardly happens anymore now that
I use baby shampoo in the lenses.
Just a little.
Keep it on the
Lens for a few
Minutes, then gently rinse it out. My
Nose used to get really stuffed up after swimming. I could
Only breathe through my mouth. At night, I would
Panic, unable to fall back asleep,
Questioning whether or not it was
Really worth it to keep doing open
Swim. It is. I searched for a solution. I
Tried sprays and pills, which didn’t work. Then, I tried nose plugs.
Uncomfortable and ugly. But effective.
Very, very effective and cheap.
Whenever I swim now, I wear them. I bought an
eXtra pair, just in case I lose the first one. I keep both cases in my
Yellow backpack, always making sure that I
Zip them up tightly, in the pouch on the top.

june 29/SWIM

75 degrees
open swim: 2 loops/2400 yards

Happy Birthday to me.
Now I’m 43!
I had such a great day
not one bit was crappy.

Woke up no longer 42, but 43. Went to the studio with Scott and wrote, working on two drafts that were homework for the amazing writing class that I’m taking. Read about lists in narrative structure, also for the class. Came home. Wrote some more. Went to open swim on a beautiful evening with calm water. Swam a loop. Then swam with my daughter. Our first training swim for the triathlon we’re doing together in August. Team Mo (Mom) and Ro (Rosie). Then swam another loop. Now I’m home writing this log entry. I have a nice warm, sore feeling from my swim. This was a great birthday.

 

june 28/4 MILES

69 degrees
89% humidity
mississippi river road path, north/minnehaha falls/mississippi river road path, south

The 1/2 marathon is next Tuesday and I have a running/walking plan for it. There are water stops every 2.5 miles until mile 7.5 when the water stops shorten to every 2 miles. I will stop and walk 30 seconds after 1.25 miles, then 1 minute at 2.5 (water), 3.75, 5 (water), 6.25, 7.5 (water), 9.5 (water) and 11.5 (water) miles. I tried an abbreviated version of this plan on my run today, walking at miles 1.25 and 2.5. I ran faster and finished stronger.

The key, I think, to all of this is to stay consistent and stick to my plan. I’m too good at finding reasons to alter my plans. Not because I don’t want to do the work but because I don’t trust my plan or because I think I can find a better way or because I’m restless and don’t like the obligation of sticking to one plan. I like to have options and the ability to think and imagine new ways of being and doing. And I like making plans much more than following them. Often, this is one of my strengths: flexible, creative thinking, always open to new possibilities. Being undisciplined. But, it can be a liability. Sometimes discipline and focus are needed.

june 27/8 MILES

64 degrees
the almost downtown turn around

Success! After several runs where I felt like I was too tired or too slow or too willing to stop and walk, I had a successful run. I decided that i would have a plan and stick to it, no matter what. My plan? Run 1.5 miles/Walk 1 minute. I ran up both hills without problems and kept to my running/walking schedule. The only change that I made was to skip the last walk and run for 2 miles instead of just 1.5. Lesson learned: decide on a plan and commit to it.

open swim
1 loop/1200 yards

The theme of the swim: chilly & choppy. So choppy! Big waves and rough water, especially by the big beach. Fun and exhausting. I’m glad that I’m a very strong swimmer.

june 25/3 MILES

56 degrees
mississippi river road path, north/mississippi river road path, south

56 degrees in June at 8 am. On February 19, it was 58 degrees. 58. Of course, that was at 2 pm, not 8 am. But, still. This weather is crazy. I ran much faster this morning and it felt pretty good. I think I need to add in a few faster runs each week.

58 degrees
open swim: 1 loop/1200 yards
bike to lake nokomis and back: 7 miles

Brrr. Actually, with my wetsuit on, it wasn’t too cold. The water temp was probably about 15 degrees warmer than the air temp. The water was very choppy in the middle of the lake, closer to the little beach. I don’t mind choppy. It’s kind of fun and it makes the trip across the lake even more interesting.  The bike ride was tougher. Lots of wind, some rain too. Sore legs. There was a tree down, stretching across the whole width of the street on my bike route. Must have been because of the strong winds yesterday afternoon. There were several spazzy dogs at the lake, barking and lunging at walkers, runners, other dogs.

june 24/9.5 MILES

60 degrees
lake nokomis loop, short + minnehaha creek path/minnehaha dog park/mississippi river road path, north

Oh, if the weather could be like this on every run! Ran to the lake and took in the beautiful blue water, undulating in the wind. Too cold for swimming, but just right for running and walking. I stopped to walk at 4.25 miles for a few minutes. Then ran again, with headphones this time, down Minnehaha Parkway, past the falls and turned around at the dog park. My running wasn’t fast and wasn’t non-stop, but I still enjoyed being outside and felt good about what I accomplished.

june 23/6.15 MILES

63 degrees
mississippi river road path, south/minnehaha falls dog park/mississippi river road path, north

Ran 6.15 miles (with just a small bit of walking too) in the morning and then worked on my writing assignment for my class. This week, the assignment was to write a 2-3 page disruptive or fluid narrative. I think mine might be a bit of both:

Don’t Stop (on believing)

It’s hard to hold onto a thought when you’re running, except for when it’s not. Some thoughts, the brilliant ones, can pierce through your armor, leaving you breathless with their insight and intensity. Then they quickly evaporate. Other thoughts, the doubtful ones, linger. You can’t get rid of them. They keep returning, even as you try to push them away, to crowd them out with distractions and attention to other things. Like birds chirping. And leaves gently rustling. And sandy grit lightly crunching. And trees sighing. Why do trees sigh? Is it a gesture of resigned acceptance as they absorb the negative thoughts that we exhale? Or is it an offering of gratitude as they receive the carbon dioxide that is forced out of our bodies? Do trees sigh? Sometimes I think they do as I run by them. When I’m paying attention, that is. And when I’m distracted enough not to notice the worries that hover, like the humidity on an early summer morning. Thick. Wet. Heavy. A blanket of moisture weighing me down. Or an anchor, tethering me too firmly to the ground, like the time I had to run at noon, instead of in the morning, which is when I prefer running. It was in the spring, before it got too hot, but after the sun was out. Directly overhead. Bearing down. In the morning, my shadow leads me as I travel north and follows as I travel south. But that noon, my shadow was chained to me, no matter which direction I ran. An anchor, clinging to my feet. Dragging me down, into the ground. Demanding my attention and distracting me from the joy of moving and being outside. Right after I get outside, during an early morning run, I like to greet my shadow. “Hello friend!” Never out loud, just in my head. I’m hoping to be on good terms with her. She can be so helpful, running ahead of me, leading the way while my legs slowly warm up. And, if it’s early enough, she likes to run below me in the gorge, assessing the progress of the leaves on the trees and inviting me to do the same. I glance down and wonder what’s lurking behind those leaves? and where are those voices I’m hearing coming from? I hear a lot of voices when I’m running without headphones on. Friendly voices that greet me with a “hi” or “good morning” as we encounter each other on the path. Agitated voices, in the midst of a heated conversation or a swear-filled rant, that don’t notice me or my amused smile as l pass them. Annoying voices that drone on and on about something that only register as loud, insistent bellows or whines, but that cut through every other sound: the whirring wheels, the buzzing bees, my jagged breathing. Far away voices, distorted by distance and a bullhorn, that bark out orders to the rowers rowing on the river. Cackling voices, somewhere below me, that erupt with laughter over a joke? a funny story? one of the bodies attached to the voice almost tripping over a root on the path? And a malevolent voice that interrupts everything else to remind me that I am running and that it is hard and that I don’t have to be doing this. This voice frequently surfaces when I’m 30-40 minutes into a longer run.

You could stop, you know.

In A Philosophy of Walking, Frédéric Gros claims that when you are outside, moving through the world, you are never alone with your thoughts: “Everything talks to you, greets you, demands your attention: trees, flowers, the colour of the roads. The sigh of the wind, the buzzing of insects, the babble of streams, the impact of your feet on the ground: a whole rustling murmur that responds to your presence (54-55)”. These murmurs delight and distract, but also invite us to pay attention to something other than ourselves and our limits. When I’m walking, I’m particularly fond of the trees. The tall, ancient ones, that spread their limbs wide and high, forcing me to crane my neck to take in their immense girth and wisdom. When I’m running, I often focus on the wind and its many versions: when it sizzles through the trees, its gentle wafting as a breeze, the times it howls as it rushes past my ears. That wind, the howling kind, is so awful when you have to run directly into it.

You know, you could stop.

In “Attention and Will,” Simone Weil argues that it is attention and not will or willfullness or stubbornness or clenched jaws or a better attitude or more fortitude that enables us to believe. Paying attention, pure, “absolutely unmixed attention is prayer” and faith and love. A belief detached from desire or doubt. But, attention to what? Attention to the good, the beautiful. The electric blue yarn bomb on the railroad trestle. The graceful gait of the passing runner. The clickity-clacking from the ski poles of the rollerblader/summer skier. The soft dirt absorbing the force of my striking foot. Not attention to the problem of being too tired, of wanting to stop running.

You could, you know. Stop, that is.

On the running path, I attempt to pray through breathing. In and out. In and out. Inhaling the world, exhaling the doubt. When this isn’t working, I try chanting: I am flying, I am free, I am where I want to be. Sometimes I resort to a counter-spell like the one that I created during a morning run a few weeks ago: This is my charm, against all harm. I’ll try every trick I can think of or that I’ve read about to distract myself and be fully present in the moment of running on the path. And to keep running and moving. To access another level of existence for a moment. Not to miss it by stopping.

But you could, you know, just stop, not go.

This cycle of attention/distraction, from believing to doubting to believing to doubting to believing, doesn’t happen on every run, although it’s been happening more lately, in the summer heat and humidity. But, when it does happen, it can happen over and over and over again until I’ve reached my destination or the number of miles that I’ve planned to run for that day. Occasionally the malevolent voice wins out and I stop early, but most of the time, it doesn’t. I keep moving until I’m finished. And, if I’m really lucky, I am changed, ever so slightly, by the effort, by my shift from will to attention and by having been able to experience the infinite if only for an instant.

june 22/XT

xt = cross-training = swim
2400 yards/2 loops open swim

The open swim was excellent. The water was very calm, no waves at all. Lots of planes overhead. Not too many swimmers because it had just stopped raining. In the first loop, my wetsuit made a weird squeaking noise underwater. Funny to hear.

I’m struggling with my runs lately. It could be the heat. It could be a loss in confidence. It could be a bit of burnout from training for 6 months. Or it could be my diet. I’m a pescatarian who eats mostly vegetables, fish about 2-3 times a month and no meat. This has been my diet for almost 4 years. I don’t miss meat at all. Occasionally I wonder, when I’m feeling fatigued, if I’m missing out on some protein and iron because I’m not eating red meat. It might be time to pay more attention to food and my diet. Not too much attention, but enough to make sure that lack of protein or iron or amino acids or something else is not the cause of my fatigue.

According to this article, here are some important food combinations to ensure that I get the 8 essential amino acids* that I need:

  • Grains with legumes
  • Grains with dairy
  • Vegetables with soy
  • Legumes with nuts
  • Vegetables with dairy.

Also important: to absorb the iron in non-meat foods, combine it with vitamin C and use an cast-iron skillet. Cast-iron skillet? Who knew.

*The 8 Essential Amino Acids

There are 20 essential amino acids, 8 of which your body doesn’t produce naturally. [source]

  • valine,
  • isoleucine
  • leucine
  • phenylalanine
  • threonine
  • tryptophan
  • methionine
  • lysine

june 21/6 MILES

63 degrees
dew point 54
franklin hill turn around with extra

Still struggling with energy during the run. The first 3-4 miles feel fine and then it gets really hard. My heart rate goes up and my legs feel so sore. Midway through I wondered, should I ease up a little for the rest of the week? Maybe skip my long run and do a mini-taper before my half marathon on the 4th of July? Is that giving up or resting up?

Yesterday I listened to Lorde, today I listened to lots of wheels. Car wheels, bike wheels, roller blade wheels. So many wheels moving fast and slow and so many people on the road and the bike path!

june 20/3 MILES

63 degrees
dew point 53
70% humidity
mississippi river road path, north/mississippi river road path, south

Got a late start because of rain, so decided to do my shorter run today. Listened to the new Lorde album while I ran. Managed to hear the daily walker say good morning to me and answered back with my own good morning. Felt pretty good, despite the heat and high dew point. Other than saying good morning, I don’t remember that much about the run.

open swim
2 loops/2400 yards

A good swim. The waves were choppy on the way back from the little beach to the big beach, which I don’t mind. I feel tired and have a warm glow all over, from sore muscles. So wonderful. I love swimming across the lake. It’s so much better than swimming in a pool, doing endless laps and flip turns.

So, what do I think about when I’m swimming?

  • Where’s the buoy?
  • Am I still on course?
  • Any other swimmers around that I might run into?
  • There are a lot of airplanes in the sky today.
  • Is my nose plug working, or will my nose get horribly stuffed up around midnight and keep me up all night because I can’t breathe?
  • Should I do a third loop?
  • These waves aren’t bothering me too much, just tiring me out.
  • The buoys are a little screwed up and messing with my big beach to little beach trajectory.
  • My calf feels fine.
  • I can’t believe it’s summer already and I’m swimming in the lake.

My thoughts during an open swim are really mundane. Because of my vision problems, I spend a lot of time trying to site the buoys and stay on the course. I really don’t need to spend that much time on it. I’m an excellent swimmer who swims straight and rarely strays too far. Maybe I can train myself to focus more on the textures and sensations of the swim next time?