3.1 miles
ford bridge and back
66 degrees
The struggle continues. Another difficult run, another beautiful morning. Birds! Flowers! Blue sky! Sweat. Sore legs. Weak will. Chanted triple berries for a few minutes, which helped me keep going longer than I thought I could. Had fun running to “Virtual Insanity” — it helped me pick up my cadence for a few minutes
10 Things
- running on the dirt path between edmund and the river road, a sharp pain on the shin — not a muscle but a bug stinging me
- flowers: purple orange red yellow pink
- walking past the house with a dog named Merry, 2 cars with canoes on top, excited voices — returning from a trip or leaving for one?
- one of the people: Shit! I’m already sweating
- the meadow just beyond the ford bridge was silent — no buzzing cicadas or croaking frogs today
- above on the ford bridge, voices somewhere — no intelligible words just 2 women making noise
- traces of mud on the trail — not gloppy, just wet
- the trail, busy with zooming bikes
- thud thud thud a power walker approaching from behind during my cool-down walk
- a big boulder on the side of the trail, a small, hollowed out part of top, filled with water — water and stone
Seeing this stone, I was reminded of Octavio Paz’s poem “Water, Wind, Stone”:
Water hollows stone,
wind scatters water,
stone stops the wind.
Water, wind, stone.
Wind carves stone,
stone’s a cup of water,
water escapes and is wind.
Stone, wind, water.
Before the run, I gave myself the task of trying to think about water and stone as I ran. The only thing I remember is this rock with the small pool of water in it.