What a great run! Crisp cold air. A clear path. Legs and lungs that feel strong. I listened to my playlist, running the final hill with “Hot for Teacher,” which was awesome.
I felt my feet rhythmically striking the path. I imagined that they resembled the triathlete Flora Duffy’s graceful running feet that I watched in a video yesterday, even as I knew they didn’t.
Ran at the stadium again with Scott. Felt pretty good for most of it, but sore at the end. Scott ran another lap while I stopped to walk.
Working on a poetry chapbook about my running and inspired by the phrase I encountered in a poem–“who must change your life.” One poem is about fall and how exciting it is–crackling with energy. alive. electric. Wondering if I should try and focus on words that seem electric and that crackle. Hard Cs. Short vowels. Sharp crisp endings. Words like:
brisk
electric
bold
brusque
dark
bright
spark
sharp
prick
crisp
frantic
quick
Earlier this morning I took the dog for a walk and the weather seemed perfect. Not much wind. Warm. Sunny. So, even though I ran yesterday and the day before that, I decided that I better get out there. Tomorrow it’s supposed to snow and the paths will probably be covered again with ice. I got ready but just before I opened the front door to leave I heard it. The wind howling. Uh oh. I decided it was too late to stop so I went out for my run. The wind wasn’t too bad–only gusting in my face occasionally. Most of the time, it was at my back. When I reached the river road, I ran to the right instead of the left—to Minnehaha Falls. Pretty cool. Half frozen, half gushing. The path was almost completely clear. Only a few ice patches.
It hasn’t snowed since Saturday so the paths have cleared up. I was actually able to run on some bare pavement for a while! Decided to run all the way down and back up the Franklin hill. At the bottom, the sun was shining not quite in my eyes, making the path glow. Ran most of the way up the hill but then walked for a minute (or 2?). Felt good. Ran the last mile much faster than the first 4 miles.
My first time running at the track since last spring. Listened to my little iPod with an old running playlist and tried to stay relaxed. Running inside is not nearly as meaningful as running outside, but it’s fine. Better than not running at all. Not too many people–more walkers than runners. And after the run–the hot tub!
Didn’t wake up planning to run this morning but when I took the dog for a walk and felt how calm and clear it was outside, I decided I better go. Who knows what it will be like tomorrow morning? I’m glad I did. Not too cold. Not too windy. Not too icy. After the turn around on my way back south, it started to snow. Medium sized flakes that got trapped in my eyelashes. More pretty than annoying. Listened to my playlist. Looked at the river. Marveled at how the snow just keeps coming, slow and steady. A few flakes at a time. Adding up to white everywhere. No green grass until the spring.
Last Tuesday, when the snow first stayed on the ground, I wrote a brief poem:
It happened.
Not last night but
the night before.
The snow came to stay
setting up camp
on the lawn
until the spring.
Goodbye green grass!
Goodbye bare forest floor!
I’ll see you in March.
It snowed again this morning right before my run. A dusting. Will this be the theme for all of winter or just December? Will Minneapolis Parks ever come out and clear the path? It wasn’t too slippery, just uneven on the path. Made for slower running. Probably a better workout for my leg muscles?
On my walk home, after my run, heard the snow lightly crunching under my feet. Love that sound. I want to figure out how to describe it and how to track the different versions of the snow–wet snow, soft powder, under the wheels of cars, mid-run, while walking…
I wasn’t expecting too much snow on the ground this morning, but there it was, covering the deck and the roads and the sidewalk. And when the sun rose more flakes appeared. Big heavy, wet clumps. I decided I would run anyway. The river road path wasn’t too slippery, just a bit sloppy and difficult to run on. I think my legs will be a little more sore than usual later today.
Walking through the neighborhood on the way to the river my feet made a delightful double crunch noise caused by the extra wetness of the snow. There was the quick crunch of my foot lifting off of the snow and then the deep rumbling crunch of my constant weight on the path. So fun to hear. I wish I would have recorded it.
It was a good run with negative splits. I didn’t care how fast I went just how strong I felt. I chanted “raspberry blueberry strawberry chocolate” again. Almost felt like I was waltzing at one point.
Before and after but no so much during my run, I thought about Minneapolis snow and how it seems to accumulate steadily through frequent dustings instead of amassing suddenly through big storms. It grows my inches, not feet. I decided to write about these snow dusting, first in free verse and then in ghazal form.
it doesn’t come all at once
just an inch here
half an inch there
waking up in the morning
to yet another dusting
not much but enough
to keep the ground covered
until spring
first soft and fluffy
then hard and crusty
a pure white blanket
then a dirty gray bank
relentlessly present
not obstinate or malevolent
just always there
always cold
always covering everything
until it warms
or gets shoveled
but then
always covering again
with a light dusting
there’s something exciting
about a big storm
6-8 inches
a foot expected!
but “less than half an inch”
a dusting
is boring
bland
nothing
to dream about
nothing to wake up to
in wonder
only something to shovel
Never all at once, first it’s bare—a dusting—
an inch here, half an inch there—dustings.
It happens in the middle of the night
then waking up to white everywhere—a dusting.
Weekly inches adding up to feet steadily
crystals congregate in cold air—dustings.
Soon molehills become mountains, blankets banks
snow comes daily without fanfare—a dusting.
These flakes never shouting, “Winter is here!”
always quietly declaring, “dustings.”
Week after week after week after month
so boring so constantly there—a dusting.
Minneapolis—why no grand celebration
no big party? So many small affairs—dustings!
My first run of the (almost) winter on ice and snow. The river road path was about 80-85% covered with lots of ice patches. My feet slipped on the ice many times but it didn’t bother me. Just great to be outside breathing in the fresh cold air. Last winter I didn’t pay attention, but this year I’m looking down at the floodplain forest and noticing the snow covering the floor and looking out at the river, watching the water flow and the ice accumulate.
Got a pair of Yaktrax to put on the bottom of my shoes for walking (or running) on snow and ice covered paths. Didn’t use them while running but they helped a lot when I was walking my dog. Instant confidence on the icy path. Walking without tensed muscles. So much better!
When the ice and snow returns memories of cold air, slippery/slushy/snow-covered paths, intense blue skies with sparkling white ground, frozen toes and lungs and snot in my nose return too. Winter in Minneapolis is such a contrast to summer. I always imagine myself as two Saras–summer Sara and winter Sara.
Wistful for clear paths yet
invigorated by the pure cold, the
new views to St. Paul, the bare
trees and the concentrated
effort needed to avoid slippery patches. Below me the
river still flows yet is beginning to
Slow
as the ice, gone for so many months,
returns
and accumulates on its surface.
Scott and I ran inside at the Vikings Stadium this evening. In the winter, the Minnesota Distance Running Association sponsors indoor runs. Pretty cool. We were planning to run 4 miles but neither of us were really feeling it. Side aches + groin aches + knee aches = only 1/2 the distance planned. This was my first indoor run since mid April. It was cool to run around the new stadium but I definitely prefer running outside by the gorge.