3.1 miles
track
ywca
I would have liked to run outside. It was sunny, not too windy, and almost above freezing, but the sidewalks were way too icy. I tried to go out for a recon walk earlier today and only made it to the end of our sidewalk before realizing the surface conditions were terrible. I had to turn around and come home. Bummer. Fresh air might have relieved some of the anxiety I’m carrying in my body from what’s happening. At least I was able to go to the y and run on the track. Moving and working up a sweat helped some, I think.
Since I was looping around a track, I decided to listen to my “Wheeling Life” playlist.
10 Track Things
- an orange bucket was out on the track in its yearly spot, catching drips from a pipe
- a short man with white hair was walking backwards in the inner lane
- the gym below was empty
- not too many people on the track, all of them quiet
- in the quiet, I could hear my feet striking the track surface — I think my striking feet were the loudest thing on the track — thwack thwack thwack
- a woman walking fast, wearing a shirt that reminded me of scrubs — had she just gotten off a shift at a hospital?
- some people follow the written rules and walk in the innermost lane, some ignore them and walk in the middle (which is for runners) or in the far left lane (which is for passing)
- just remembered: just before entering the track, passed the woman in a scrubs shirt putting air pods in her ears
- very few runners — while I was running, only me and Scott — after, while walking, one other runner
- inside it was warm (good) and very dry (bad)
Working on a tiny (24 word) poem tentatively titled bio-regionalism, and I was thinking about something I recalled hearing from Stanley Tucci in his series on regions in Italy and their food: he said that a region/neighborhood was/is defined by anyone who was in earshot of that neighborhood’s church bells. I looked it up and found this helpful definition and video from Rick Steves. The term is campanilismo:
During Tuscany’s medieval and Renaissance prime, this region was a collection of feuding city-states dominated by rich families. To this day, Tuscans remain fiercely loyal to their home community, and are keenly aware of subtle differences between people from different cities, towns, and villages. (Italians have a wonderful word for this: campanilismo, meaning that a community consists of the people within earshot of its bell tower — campanile.)
source
I love this idea of defining a community, your home-place, by its bells. My bells are the bells of St. Thomas, just across the river.