Year: 2017

19 degrees/feels like 8
mississippi river road path

No headphones again today. Enjoyed experiencing the quiet calm of running by the river, but even though it was calm, the path was still teeming with life and activity. I’m struck by the abundance and variety of sounds.

Variety of Sounds, a list

• Birds that pecked, cawed, squawked, chirped incessantly, honked, cooed and rooted around in the dry underbrush on the edge of the bluff.
• Cars that plodded, swooshed, revved, thundered, puttered and hummed as they ambled on the river road or passed overhead on the bridges I ran under or rushed hurriedly on the freeway that I could only faintly hear at the halfway point of my run.
• Branches that thrashed against the iron fence when I accidentally hit them. That cracked under my feet as I ran by. That rustled vigorously when a squirrel climbed on them in the tall tree across the road and more gently when the wind caught hold of their dry and brittle leaves.
• Critters that barked, screeched, thumped and noisily plodded through the vegetation near the riverbank.
• Sandy debris that crunched under my right foot and rubbed against a small pebble that had become lodged in the slightly worn tread of my shoe as I ran up the small hill, just past the Lake Street bridge and that cracked under the heavy wheels of the cars that drove over it. Mulched debris that absorbed most of the sound of my striking foot, converting its usual sharp thwack into a dull thud.  

How much of my run was occupied with listening for these sounds? Not as much as you might imagine. I still managed to think about whether or not I was going too fast, why my nose was running so much, if it was better to do a snot rocket or blow my nose into my buff (didn’t have to think about that one too long; I’ve only tried shooting snot once and it was a gross failure) and how to swing my left arm in a way that loosened up the tension in my shoulder but that didn’t make me look like the woman that passed me running down the Franklin hill who had good form–a nice kick and arms that swung by her sides, but still managed to be a spaz.

32 degrees
mississippi river road walking path

A beautiful Sunday morning. Decided to challenge myself to running without headphones. Focused on listening.

Things I heard while running, a list

1. Crows cawing
2. Other birds chirping and cooing
3. A woodpecker pecking
4. Geese honking
5. The swoosh of cars as they drive by on the river road
6. The worn wheels of a car, plodding along the river road
7. Some funky music, playing from a radio on a bike
8. The sharp thud of my shoes on the paved path
9. The dull thud of my shoes on dirt and debris on the path
10. The crunch of my shoes on salt and gravel on the path
11. My breathing, usually slow and measured, occasionally quick and labored, like when climbing the Franklin hill
12. My zipper pull, rhythmically banging against my jacket as I run
13. An airplane, faint and far above my head
14. The wind rushing by my ears
15. The wind rustling in the dead leaves that never fell off the trees this past fall
16. Cars thumping above my head as I pass under the Lake Street Bridge
17. The quick and unexpected laughter of a woman on a path below me
18. Bike wheels, rapidly approaching
19. Phantom steps from runners who seem to be gaining on me, yet never pass, managing to turn off onto another path before reaching me. The crunch of their shoes is so slight that I wonder if they even exist, or if I’m imagining them
20. The clanging of a dog’s chain
21. A walker talking quietly on a phone
22. Children faintly laughing

That’s all I can remember.

Here’s a quick video I took just after finishing my run. Not the greatest quality, but effective at reminding me of what I saw when I was done running.