Category: Running Log

aug 7/RUNBIKESWIM

run: 4.5 miles
mississippi river road path, north/south
71 degrees/87% humidity

Dark green tunnel above the gorge. Leaves blocking out my view to the river and the sky. Later, past the old stone steps, I could see slices of the blue gray water. Lots of roller skiers. Some behind me going slow enough that they never caught up. Some ahead of me, slowing down enough that I could pass them. Why so many skiers this week? Ran to the Franklin bridge and then stopped to watch some rowers passing under the bridge. Felt pretty good, even if I walked a few times. Too many discarded acorns on the path crunching and twisting my foot. Why so early with the acorns? Will fall and winter come too soon this year?

bike: 8.6 miles
lake nokomis

A typical bike ride. Not too fast, on the river road. On the way back, looking out through the trees at the river, I felt lucky to live here and be able to bike on this trail so often.

swim: 1 mile
lake nokomis main beach

Looped around the white buoys ringing the big beach. 5 or was it 6 times? The water was gray and calm and cool. My arms felt strong cutting through the water, my legs powerful as I kicked. Several kayaks paddled through the swimming area, too close to me, so I spent much of my swim always looking out for clueless boaters. Swam for a little over 30 minutes. So glad I fired up to bike over. I’m going to miss these long loopy swims when I’m in the pool this winter doing countless flip turns, hoping my knee doesn’t slide out of its groove.

aug 6/RUN

7.25 miles
to lake nokomis and back
70 degrees/90% humidity/dew point 68

Ran to the lake, swam to the dock, then ran home. It was harder than I thought it would be but after checking the weather, I know why: so humid and that dew point? Yuck! Things I remember about the run (with some walking mixed in):

Auto-pilot. For large chunks of the early run, I was moving without thinking.

Buzzing bugs! I listened to my playlist but when I got to one of my favorite parts of the creek path I decided to take them off. It was still and quiet except for the electric buzzing of the bugs.

Creek crud. As I was crossing the mustache bridge near Longfellow Gardens, I looked down at the creek and noticed the big streaks of crud–weeds? algae? scum?–in the water. Gross.

Diving. When I reached the little beach, I swam out to the dock and stood, looking at the calm water. After a few minutes I stood on the edge and then dove into the water and swam back.

Empty. Made the mistake of not eating anything before my run. I was hungry and lacked energy.

Foot, left. I’m a little worried about my left foot. It started to hurt again about 3 miles into my run. Just a little pang, nothing too bad…yet.

Grass. After I got out of the lake, I tried to carefully wipe the sand off of my feet in the grass. I didn’t have a towel and I didn’t want sandy grit stuck between my toes causing blisters. That happened last year.

Humidity. So hard to breathe at the beginning of the run. The air was thick and warm and damp.

Impossible. Near the echo bridge, only 2.5 miles into the run, it felt impossible to keep going. I wanted to stop. So I walked for a few minutes and then started running again.

Justin Bieber. Listened to “Sorry” as I ran along Minnehaha Parkway.

Kayak. At Lake Hiawatha on the way to Nokomis, right after the bridge with the blind turn, there’s a dock and a stand with kayaks and canoes. Running/walking by it, I almost stopped to see if there were any boats in the water.

Lonesome loser. “Have you heard about the lonesome loser? Beaten by the Queen of Hearts every time.” Listened to Little River Band’s song as I ran.

Muggy. Moist. Miserable.

Nokomis. My favorite lake to swim in but not necessarily to run to or around. Not sure why, but I have a mental block with this route and often have to stop and walk while running on it.

Off the main trail. On the last stretch of running, north on the river road, I decided to take the lower, less-maintained trail, below the road. I’ve been walking/running with the kids on this all summer. A nice change of pace and beautiful, being that much closer to the river, running under a canopy of green.

Pulse. Average: 168. My heart rate is high when I run, usually in the mid 170s. It’s very low when I’m resting: 57.

Quick-dry. My running tank top dried quickly after my swim, but my shorts did not. They were dripping water for the entire run back, which felt weird and uncomfortable.

Roller skiers! So many out there this morning. I guess fall is coming. Solo skiers and big groups too. Saw them by the falls, on the creek path, by the river. Running below the road, I could hear their clicking and clacking above me.

Satisfied. Not by best run. Slow. Difficult. But I’ve wanted to try running to the lake, swimming to the dock and then running back all summer and I finally did it so I’m satisfied.

Tired. My legs felt tired for most of the run and now, a few hours after finishing, I want to go back to bed.

Underwater. Contemplated running with my googles so I could see underwater as I swam, but decided that it would be too awkward to carry them. Next time, I’ll probably bring them. I couldn’t see anything, above or under the water, as I swam the short distance to the dock.

Verdant. Green everywhere. The river road, the creek path and the lake trail are all surrounded by large patches of green grass. And tons of trees. Sometimes, the green leaves form a tunnel above me.

Water. The Mississippi River. Minnehaha Creek. Lake Hiawatha. Lake Nokomis. I run by all of these bodies of water on this route.

X. Having written a lot of abecedarian poems, I’ve decided that x is the biggest problem. I’ve used x-ray and x marks the spot. The X on my socks. Even eXactly of eXtreme. I’m tired of x.

Yield. There are 2 crosswalks that I have to run through at Minnehaha Falls. Sometimes drivers pay attention and yield, sometimes they don’t. Today they did.

Zig-zag. Encountered a walker on the trail and we had one of those awkward moments when she zigged instead of zagged and I zagged instead of zigged.

aug 4/RUN

2.35 miles
mississippi river road path, south/north
73 degrees/89% humidity/dew point 66

It was supposed to rain/thunder/storm this morning but after waiting an hour without anything happening I decided to risk it and go out for a run. Felt a few rain drops but that was it. Hot. Sticky. Humid. It didn’t bother me today. Ran with my running playlist. Encountered bikers, runners, walkers. No roller skiers or birds or dogs. My foot, which felt weird yesterday–the left one, felt okay today. Don’t remember much from my run except how I was trying to evenly swing my arms and run with my shoulders relaxed. Oh–and when the song–“Loving is Easy” by Rex Orange County came on my playlist, I thought it was Stevie Wonder’s “I Just Called to Say I Love You.” Might need to add that to a new running playlist.

Addendum: After finishing this log, I read an essay by Devin Kelly about running and his dad. Beautiful. I want to spend more time thinking about its substance and structure. I really like how he weaves the different threads together.

aug 2/RUNBIKESWIM

run: 3.3 miles
mississippi river road path, north/south
57 degrees!

A cooler morning. No headphones. Lots of bikers, not as many runners. Focused a lot of attention on my arm swing again. Saw some rowers being dropped off under the lake street bridge, above the Minneapolis Rowing Club. Maybe my daughter Ro should try something like that? I bet she’d be great at it. I think rowing on the river would be really cool. Don’t remember much else from my run. No roller skiers. Not too many birds. Only one or two dogs.

bike: 8.6 miles
lake nokomis

The bike back was cool but beautiful. The sun starting to sink. The trees on fire. The light, pink. Biked with Ro and Scott.

swim: 2 miles/3 loops/3600 yards
lake nokomis open swim

Open swim is the best! The clouds before I started were puffy streaks, like someone had raked their fingers through them. The water was still. Not many people around. 2 kids swinging, entertained me with their toddler talk and their songs–including Santa Claus is Coming to Town. The air was cool but the water was warm. My feet felt like they might cramp and so did my calf so I was a bit wary of swimming too much or kicking too hard. Decided to only do 3 loops instead of 4. On the final lap, stopped in the middle of the lake, did some breaststroke and then listened to the silence. So amazing! Next time, I’d like to do an extra loop where I just swim out into the middle of the lake and tread water, experiencing the calm and the strange feeling of being out in the middle of the water.

july 31/RUNBIKESWIM

run: 4 miles
mississippi river road path, north/south
72 degrees/75% humidity/dew point 63

I was going to write that last summer I had no problem getting up at 6 am for a summer run but then I checked my apple watch and saw that almost all of my runs in June and July from last year were at 8, so I guess I’ve been running this late for a few years. It would be easier to run earlier. Cooler. One problem: it’s cooler but much more humid with a higher dew point. Which is worse: high humidity with a lower temperature or lower humidity with a higher temperature. Can I get up early enough to find out? Heard the rowers on the river and my feet striking the ground. Worked on my arm swing and raising my knees. Encountered some fast bikers and a roller skier slowly passing me. Didn’t listen to music. Avoided the direct sun, which was already hot. Glanced at my shadow. Happily ran past the cars stopped at the stop sign, briefly wondering if they noticed me and wished they were out running.

bike: 4.3
to lake nokomis

swim: 2.72 miles/4 loops/4800 yards
lake nokomis open swim

Another 4 loops! This time the water was choppy. So choppy that I had to breathe on one side. And it was crowded. So many swimmers swimming across and so many people hanging out that lake. But, I did it. 4 loops! 1 hour and 16 minutes which probably means it was slightly less than 4800 yards but it was still 4 loops. I felt strong and powerful as I cut through the choppy water and lifted myself up to see the buoys. When I was almost done with the last loop, my foot suddenly started to cramp up. Instantly, I stopped and shook it out until it felt better. Crisis averted. No repeat of the calf cramp from hell that I got 3 years ago. Other random things about the swim: almost ran into several people. Was attacked by weeds that got stuck to my cap and stayed there and by a stick. Was wary of a menacing sailboat that looked like it wanted to cross over, right through the swimmers. The slightly setting sun was blinding on the way back to the big beach. The water felt warm–76 degrees.

july 30/RUNSWIM

run: 3 miles
lake nokomis

Thought about running around the lake twice, but it was too sunny and hot. My legs felt sore. What do I remember from the run? Not much. Not enough shade. Lots of walkers and dogs. A few runners. Saw two roller skiers right at the end–always a good omen. Not sure if I’ve ever seen roller skiers at the lake before.

swim: 1 mile/5 little loops
lake nokomis main beach

What a morning for a swim! Warm. Sunny. No waves. I’m so glad I made it to the lake and swam. Got into a rhythm, breathing every 5 strokes. Didn’t see any fish but had a few run-ins with lake debris–floating weeds wrapping around my arms. Saw one other swimmer and a bunch of paddle boarders. One rower. A group of kids taking swimming lessons with the lifeguards. Felt relaxed and peaceful. Heard sloshing in the water and a bit of splashing as my arms broke through the surface. Thought about my stroke: bending my elbows, doing a strong pull under the water, sometimes touching my hipbone as I brought my arm in, legs kicking slowly then quickly. Had no problems seeing the white buoys with my peripheral vision. Only thought about Jaws and the girl at the beginning swimming then being attacked once, for less than a minute. Didn’t worry about anything lurking. Heard some planes flying above. No seagulls or ducks around. I’d really like to try and swim everyday this month.

july 26/RUN

1 mile with son/3 miles alone
mississippi river road path south, below, above, north
61 degrees

Such a great, grayish glowing greenish morning for a run. Started out with the boy. Much more walking than running. But no complaining and lots of laughing. The weather was so great, the path so inviting that I decided not to stop after we were done with our workout. Ran the other way on the river for a mile and a half and then headed back. Felt good. Heard a roller skier approaching me for several minutes. Click. Clack. Scrape. Click. Clack. Scrape. Click. Clack. Scrape. It always seems to be a good omen, hearing and seeing a roller skier. When they finally passed me, I could hear that they were listening to the Tour de France. I called out, “Are you listening to the tour? Cool.” Was able to greet the Daily Walker when I was almost finished. Another good omen.

july 25/RUN

4 miles
minnehaha falls loop

A good run. Started with headphones but the shuffle on my playlist was stuck and I kept hearing the same 3 songs over and over again: Lorde’s “Homemade Dynamite”/Rex Orange County’s “Sunflower”/Courtney Barnett’s “Nameless, Faceless”. So I took out my headphones and listened to the chattering birds and the rushing cars and the even rhythm of my feet striking the path. I ran by the falls without really noticing it–I seem to do that a lot. My legs started feeling sore around mile 3 so I walked for a few minutes. Finished with some strong running, even though I had struggled to start running again. Somehow I made it through the moment of doubt and desire to stop and kept going, running until I reached the water fountain.

After my run, I sat on my back deck and listened to the birds:

july 24/RUNBIKESWIM

run: 1 mile
lake nokomis

Attempted a training run with Ro around Lake Nokomis but her resistance to accomplishing goals won out. Her ability to resist is impressive even as it’s disheartening. I will continue to believe that one day she will learn to harness her superpower in ways that make her (and the world) better, more just, more joyful. Some days it’s so hard to be a parent and let your kids be who they need to be. It was a beautiful day at the lake. Sunny. Breezy. Bright blue water. Even as I was angry and frustrated, I was also annoyed at myself for not being able to let go of it and enjoy the beautiful morning. Our plan had been to run around the lake and then swim out to the dock for the first time this summer. We walked around the lake and then left before swimming. Bummer.

bike: 8.6 miles
lake nokomis

A beautiful afternoon. A very slow bike ride with Ro and Scott. Right at the river, past the falls, over the moustache bridge, beside the creek, up 2 hills, down to the lake. Then, after the swim, back again.

swim: 1.36 miles/2 loops/2400 yards
lake nokomis
water temp: 73 degrees

Another great swim. Every swim, I feel more confident about not being able to see much and every swim I feel stronger. On the way back from the little beach, the sun was so blinding that I couldn’t see anything and the water was choppy enough that I had to mostly breathe on one side, but I didn’t care. Swimming out to the little beach, I kept seeing the white sail of a boat beside me. Also saw the red of the kayak and (sometimes) the orange of the buoy. The only thing I remember hearing were the shouts of the lifeguards as they yelled back and forth to each other. After the swim, I met up with Scott and Rosie at Sandcastle–the restaurant at the lake. I had a beer, listened to the bluegrass musician and watched a few sailboats moving across the lake. The perfect summer evening. Recognized and celebrated. Redemption after a difficult morning.

july 23/RUN

5.15 miles
67 degrees/85% humidity/dew point: 65
franklin loop

No wonder my run felt harder today: 85% humidity and a dew point of 65! Ran the Franklin loop for the first time in a few months. The first 3 miles felt fine, the rest did not. Ran most of it, but walked a little. Listened to a running playlist. Did I notice anything? Starting my run, right before the path dipped down below the road, I noticed a brief flash of blue river that I’d never noticed before. A few minutes later, I noted the progress of the leaves: completely filled in, absolutely no view of the river or St. Paul or anything but green leaves and brown trunks. As I crossed the Lake Street bridge, I noticed a lone rower, their single scull (is that the proper way to refer to it?) carving a shimmering path through the calm mississippi. Farther up the river, another single scull. After crossing back over on the Franklin bridge, a white semi traveled slowly on the river road, backing up the traffic–over 20 cars trailing behind it? I enjoyed passing them all as I ran.

july 20/RUN

6.2 miles
66 degrees/65% humidity/dew point: 65
franklin turn around + extra

Running in the rain, I’m running in the rain. What a glorious feeling, I’m happy again! Just like I don’t mind swimming in the rain, I don’t mind running in the rain. I didn’t even notice the 96% humidity or the dew point of 65. When I started, it was barely sprinkling, but at some point, it was raining. Not quite light, but not heavy either. Steady. Soft. Straight down. Under the brim of my baseball cap, I could hardly feel it at all. Refreshing. When I was done, my shoes were soaked but I didn’t care–well, I will care if they’re still soaked tomorrow.

Here’s a poem I encountered about a heavy summer rain, by Jane Kenyon:

Heavy Summer Rain

BY JANE KENYON
The grasses in the field have toppled,
and in places it seems that a large, now
absent, animal must have passed the night.
The hay will right itself if the day

turns dry. I miss you steadily, painfully.
None of your blustering entrances
or exits, doors swinging wildly
on their hinges, or your huge unconscious
sighs when you read something sad,
like Henry Adams’s letters from Japan,
where he traveled after Clover died.

Everything blooming bows down in the rain:
white irises, red peonies; and the poppies
with their black and secret centers
lie shattered on the lawn.

july 18/RUN

3 miles
mississippi river road path, north/south

Cooler again this morning. Writing this a day after, so I don’t remember much about the run except for that it felt good and I felt fast. A few other things:

  • Right before the greenway/railroad trestle there was a long line-up of cars, waiting at the 3 way stop. It felt great running past so many of them. What joy to be out on the path and not trapped in a car!
  • The friendly smile of a runner as I encountered her twice.
  • The green of the floodplain forest.

5K race (3.2)
walking/running with kids
last mile alone, all running
Torchlight

It was difficult racing with the kids and I probably didn’t handle it as well I could have, but it doesn’t matter because they finished it. More than 10 minutes faster than I thought they could and with smiles on their faces! Towards the end, they encountered a fast walker on the bridge, going past them. He called out, “I’m an 80 year old diabetic with an artificial hip (as he hit his hip), and if I can do it, you can too!” This inspired them to fire up and run the last stretch of the race. That story, which they both told with great enthusiasm, and the picture that Scott took of them just coming off of the Stone Arch Bridge is how I will happily remember this race:

They made it! #torchlight5k

A post shared by Scott Anderson 📎 (@room34) on

july 16/RUN

4 miles
64 degrees/85% humidity
mississippi river road path, north/south

Finally. A cooler morning. Still humid but 10 degrees cooler. Ran without headphones and heard lots of birds. Saw lots of green. Briefly glimpsed my shadow on the way to my favorite part of the path. She was running beside me, on the left. I’m feeling stronger, fitter and faster this summer. Could it be the swimming?

Encountered a few haikus that I really liked last week. Part of a larger series of haikus in a piece called Haiku/etheridge knight. Here are 3 of my favorite:

5
A bare pecan tree
slips a pencil shadow down
a moonlit snow slope.

6
The falling snow flakes
Cannot blunt the hard aches nor
Match the steel stillness.

9
Making jazz swing in
Seventeen syllables AIN’T
No square poet’s job.

What would my haiku be for this morning’s run?

Early morning run
in july with my shadow.
We are friends today.

A green tunnel greets
us, blocking out the shrill
sounds and the warm light.

3.1 miles
mostly walking, a little running with kids
mississippi river road path, south/north

Final training session before the kids’ first 5k. It went okay. The boy felt like he was going to throw up about halfway through it so we had to stop and rest for a few minutes. I am choosing to believe that he will be fine for the race. Encountered lots of trail runners on the part of the path that dips below the road. I’m starting to think it would be fine to try a few trail runs.

july 14/RUN

2 miles
dogwood run
76 degrees/85% humidity/dewpoint 71

Another hot, humid, sticky morning. So hard to breathe! Scott and I ran up the river road through Brackett Park and to Dogwood Coffee. Our Saturday morning tradition. I don’t remember much except for that I could handle the heat better than Scott. How does that happen?

3.1 miles with kids
mostly walking, some running
mississippi river road path, south/north

This Wednesday is the kids’ first 5k race. They won’t be running that much of it, but at least they’re doing it. Today we settled on a race plan: run 1 minute every 1/2 mile. This seems to be manageable for them. I’m hoping that the race will inspire them to want to do more training and running. As we ran/walked along the river road, we watched all the bikers racing in the lifetime tri. Such a hot and sunny day for a race! I raced in this triathlon a couple of years ago and thought about doing it again this year but I don’t like the biking part–too hard and dangerous to train with my vision.

 

july 13/RUN

3.5 miles
38th street/minnehaha ave/falls/river road
71 degrees/93% humidity/dew point: 71

Wet. Wettish. Water-logged. Soggy. Sodden. Saturated. Drizzly. Dank. Damp. Misty. Moist. Muggy. Ran 3 miles through intermittent rain. When Scott and I stopped to walk, I thought about the rain and my skin. Touching my leg,  the surface of my skin was slightly wet. In a few spots, I was dripping, but everywhere I felt damp. Like one of those little sponges you might use to moisten a stamp. Very high dew point, which made running uncomfortable. Everything dripping. Everything a dark, deep green. Surprisingly, didn’t notice (m)any bugs. We ran by the falls but–of course–I was too busy yapping about a book I’m reading, The Wonder, so I didn’t notice the rushing gushing falls. At 42nd street, we decided to run below the road on the lower paved path. I described it to Scott as undulating. Up and down and up and down. Partly due to the terrain and partly the result of erosion–so many cracks and bumps and tiny holes in the asphalt.

A few hours later, after getting up from the couch, by bad knee suddenly popped out of place again. It’s been a week since the last one. Slowly and carefully I popped it back into its groove. These subluxations don’t really hurt, although I do feel a slight, sharp pain. Instead, they just shock, taking my breath away. Very upsetting to suddenly, without any warning, have your kneecap slide out of place. Especially for someone who is so physically active and relies so heavily on being able to move–to walk or bike or run or swim or travel up stairs or down stairs or outside. I’m getting better at not panicking and at carefully yet quickly popping it back into place.

I would like to write some more about my knee–how it feels, my fraught relationship to it, my struggle to keep running and loving it. Here’s a wonderful poem I found by Rita Dove about her right knee–my “bad” knee is the right one too. She’s writing about osteoporosis, which is different from my unstable kneecap:

Ode to My Right Knee

Oh, obstreperous one, ornery outside of ordinary

protocols; paramilitary probie par

excellence: Every evidence
you yield yells.

No noise
too tough to tackle, tears

springing such sudden salt
when walking wrenches:

Haranguer, hag, hanger-on—how
much more maddening

insidious imperfection?
Membranes matter-of-factly

corroding, crazed cartilage calmly chipping
away as another arduous ambulation

begins, bone bruising bone.
Leathery Lothario, lone laboring

gladiator grappling, groveling
for favor; fair-weather forecaster, fickle friend,

jive jiggy joint:
Kindly keep kicking.

july 12/RUNBIKESWIM

run: 3 miles
mississippi river road path, north/south

bike: 4.3
lake nokomis

swim: .36 miles
open swim
18 mph wind/choppy water

Even though severe rain/thunderstorm was coming, decided to bike to the lake and try to swim a little before we were evacuated from the water. So choppy! And such a dark, ominous sky. Purplish gray. Managed to swim out to the second buoy, about halfway across the lake, before turning around. A little less than 10 minutes in the water. Got out just before lightening was spotted. What a bummer. Still glad I went. I will remember that sky for years and how choppy the water was and the image of the orange buoy as I rounded it. I’ll also remember getting caught in the rain–suddenly the clouds unzipped–and walking my bike in the downpour to the awning at Nokomis Beach coffee then calling superhero Scott and waiting for him to drive over and pick me up.

july 5/RUNBIKESWIM

For some reason, I’m resisting writing in my log this week–maybe because I’m nervous about my 2 mile swim race on Saturday? Instead of forcing it, I’ll just add the distances in my log with no entries.

run: 3 miles
mississippi river road path, north/south7
76 degrees

Needed the run to change my attitude after becoming too frustrated with the kids for not wanting to do their training this morning. Listening to Lizzo helped. She’s great. Do I remember anything from my run other than trying to stop thinking about how irritated I was by my kids? No.

bike: 8.5 miles
lake nokomis

Biked to the lake for open swim. A beautiful late afternoon. Now that I’m used to it, biking is much easier, although the early evening sun and the shade on the path made certain spots very difficult to see. Did I think about anything while I was biking other than trying to stay on the path and not run into anyone or anything? Not today.

swim: 2 miles/3 loops/3600 yards
lake nokomis

I feel ready for my swim race this Saturday even though I’m really scared. What if I can’t see the buoys? Trying to calm myself down by asking and answering, “what’s the worst that could happen?” If I can’t see the buoys, I can stop and look until I find them or wait until a lifeguard finds me and points me in the right direction. I’ll be fine. Even so, I’ll be happy when this race is over. It’s been stressing me out. Today I looked down at the water below me and I’ve decided it looks pea green, almost like pea soup. I don’t like pea soup but I don’t mind it as the color of the lake water. Noticed lots of planes flying above me. Rarely was able to see the orange buoys, but that didn’t stop me from staying on course. Felt the best in my third and final loop after I had already been swimming for 45 minutes.
.

july 2/RUNBIKE

3.75 miles
mississippi river road path, north/south
70 degrees/79% humidity

Listened to a new playlist and ran towards lake street. Encountered other runners, a few bikers and at least two roller skiers. Did I see my shadow? Not sure. Felt good running, although now I wished I would have kept going the extra .25 to run the full 4 but I was thinking about how I would be running with Ro too.

1.92 miles, walking and running
winchell trail, below the river road
75 degrees/66% humidity

After finishing my run, I walked home and woke up my daughter. It was a struggle getting out the door, but we made it to the river. A big victory! Ran on the Winchell trail, below the river road. Mostly shaded with the first half dirt, the second half paved. So many dragonflies–my mom’s favorite insect. We thought about her as we ran, imagining she was with us. Saw some cute dogs and sparkling water. The paved path gently undulates, like small waves. It was fun to run slightly up then slightly down on the edge of the gorge. I’m glad Ro likes trail running. I’d like to try some more of it myself. It seems like a great way to lose yourself in a run.

bike: 11.6 miles

downtown and back
87 degrees/45% humidity

Biked downtown with Scott to pick up our bib numbers for the 4th of July race. It was supposed to be a half marathon, but was downgraded to a 5k (1 loop) or 6.75 (2 loops) because of extreme heat and humidity. Fine by me. I was not ready for a half and really wanted to just run a 5k.

july 1/RUN

2.1 miles, training with son
68 degrees/96% humidity
austin, mn

Ran/walked around a park in Austin. Humid. Thick air. Hard to breathe. But not hot. The sky was gray with rain coming. The clouds were low and moving fast. The boy (which is how Scott refers to him) complained a little, but kept going. I could tell he was mad at the running, but not me. He must want to actually giving running a try this year. We have 2.5 weeks before the race. I’m hoping he can at least double the amount of time he runs, from 9 minutes to 18. Too ambitious?

june 29/RUNSWIM

run: 2.15 miles
87 degrees/ dew point: 75!
lake nokomis

Even though it’s really hot and the dew point is ridiculous, I ran around the lake on my birthday. Surprisingly, it wasn’t too bad and I went much faster than I usually do. Listened to a new mini-playlist with a few songs from Lizzo that made me smile, some Courtney Barnett, Lorde, Prince, Cream and Corinne Bailey Rae.  Ran over the bridge and passed a bunch of cars at a standstill because of the light. Saw a few other runners and not too many walkers. Haven’t seen any lone bright yellow paddle boat in a while.

swim: .2 miles/350 years
big beach, lake nokomis

Okay, I didn’t swim much–only one loop around the white buoys off the big beach–but it was really choppy and I feel pretty sore from last night’s 2 miles. Still glad I did it. Don’t remember much about the swim except: the rough water pushing me into a pink buoy, being able to see the bottom of the lake in the shallow, swimming area, noticing a few sailboats way off in the distance, feeling my sore shoulder as my arm cut through the water, trying to work on pulling through the water with more power.

june 27/RUN

3 miles
68 degrees/89% humidity
mississippi river road path, north/south

Ran faster. Only 3 miles because I was also running with Ro later. Felt pretty good. Listened to music and didn’t pay attention to much else. For some reason, this summer I’m having trouble writing a lot. Too busy, I guess. I think it’s also the pressure of the upcoming 1/2 marathon. I hate this race but I always manage to be signed up for it.

1.95 miles, mostly walking, some running with Ro
mississippi river road trail, south/north

Third training run with Ro. Hardest yet. She wanted to stop and was complaining about how much it hurt and how I didn’t care that she was in pain. I told her that I cared, but she still needed to do it and that we needed to see what was on the other side of her pain, which (as expected) wasn’t really pain but a strong resistance to pushing herself. The running was slow but she still did it. Hopefully she’ll remember that she did and our next run will be better. We ran mostly on the lower pedestrian path, halfway down the gorge, closer to the river. Still. Heavy air. Overcast sky. A green glow. So surreal and dreamy. Ro also wanted to try running on the dirt path near the mesa. Fun! I can see why people like running on trails. You feel even more a part of the landscape and the soft terrain feels much better on your body. I’d like to try more trail running.

june 26/RUN

2.2 miles, some running, some walking
training with son
mississippi river road path north, south

Ran with my son this morning. Today we moved onto week two of couch25k which is harder. He was not happy but he did it–all but 30 seconds at the end. He didn’t talk as much about his new favorite video game because he was working too hard.

june 25/RUN

10 miles
72 degrees/84% humidity
lake nokomis loop, long

Tried running 9 minutes then walking 1. It worked until mile 6 when I got tired and my foot started to hurt. Running isn’t as easy this year. Still not fully recovered from my knee injury. What do I remember from my run? So many cars, streaming by on the river road, heading to work or vacation or somewhere fast. Saw some other runners, bikers, a few roller skiers on the creek path. Ran beside 4 bodies of water: the mississippi river, minnehaha creek lake hiawatha and lake nokomis. Halfway around lake nokomis, the path rises up a small hill and offers a beautiful view of the water. There’s a bench there and I always contemplate stopping and sitting and watching the waves. I haven’t yet. Today, as I ran by it, I noticed how splendidly the blue of the sky, the blue of the water and the green of the trees complemented each other. Was it because of the light–was it bright? I can’t remember. After making it to the big beach, I decided to listen to music. It helped motivate me to keep running. Ran down the hill between Lake Nokomis and Lake Hiawatha and the hill after 28th avenue. Did I pay attention to the creek at all? Was it rushing? Were there any big turtles in it, like the one Rosie and I saw a few summers ago? I don’t know. So much of this run was a blur.

2 miles, some running but more walking
training with daughter
mississippi river road path south, north

Did second training run with daughter. Slowly, she’s getting better. Small, subtle positive changes. Running when she’s supposed to run. Not stopping. Not freaking out and refusing. Still complaining but with less anger. Today, she sang as she ran about the bing bong (or sometimes the ding dong) that the running app makes as it alerts you to start running again. Oh, the menacing “bing bong”! Why must it bing and bong at all and once it has, when it will it do it again so we can stop? The voice that tells us to “run!” or “walk” is named Allison. According to my daughter, we don’t like her. In fact, we hate her. She is the cause of our pain and suffering as we struggle to run in the heat. (I wonder, in a few weeks, will Allison become our bff? i doubt it, but maybe we won’t blame her quite so much?)  Soon, the bing bong is no longer the sound that the app makes, it is the pain that Ro feels in her chest or her foot. “oh, I have a bing bong in my chest!” By the end of the run, Ro has figured out what these “bing bongs” look like: bullet bills from the video game, mario kart. I love her imagination.

june 24/BIKESWIMRUN

bike: 8.5 miles
lake nokomis

Hot and sticky this morning. Slightly overcast. What do I remember from my bike ride? Not really anything except for that it felt good to be up and moving in the morning and biking over to open swim.

swim: 2 miles/3 loops/3600 yards
lake nokomis open swim

Yes! Another 3 loops. The first 600 yards was difficult. Hard to breathe–was it the sticky air? The water also felt slower–was that because it was warmer? These were the things I thought about as I swam, in-between focusing on my strokes and sighting the big orange buoys. I also thought about my strokes and how I was mixing it up. Sometimes I breathed every 5 strokes. Sometimes I would breathe after three then four on one side, then three and four on the other side. Seven. My favorite number. The floating dock is finally up by the little beach! I love that dock and swimming around it every loop. So glad it’s back.

Speaking of 7, I wrote a poem about 7 last year. Just like my breathing, the lines are 3 syllables then 4 syllables:

Lucky Number

I used to
wake up worried
too early
in the morning
to do a
thing about it
except be-
come more worried
I’d lay there,
anxieties
increasing
multiplying.
Then one day
I read something
that said not
to think about
anything
when you wake up
too early
at 2 am.
Try as hard
as you can to
not make plans
or process or
feel regret
about your life.
Clear your mind
distract yourself.
Count by 3s
or count by 9s
or count by
any number
as long as
it stops your thoughts.
Me—I like
to use sevens.
Three plus four
odd then even
trinity
earth wind fire
& water
magic mixed with
the mundane.
Not helpful if
you want some
resolution
this then that
on repeat—a
back and forth.
But pleasing to
my love of
balance not too
odd, not too
even just both
together.
Sevens work. I
stop thinking
worrying and
waiting for
sleep and it comes.

run: 2 miles, some walking, some running
training with son
mississippi river road path, south/north

The second day of training with my son. I can’t believe he was willing to go again! And he did the whole thing. Halfway through he started talking to me about the video game he’s playing (Rust) . He used to do that all the time when he was younger. So sweet to be able to do it again and to spend this time with him at one of my favorite places: the river. Before we started running I joked that we could probably get to see some surreys. We did: 3!

june 23/RUN

run: 6.1 miles, 4.1 alone, 2 with Scott
70 degrees/86% humidity/dew point: 63
minnehaha falls + dogwood coffee

Ran to the falls by myself and then met up with Scott to do our Saturday morning run to Dogwood Coffee. Hot and sticky this morning. Was very steady with my pace and felt pretty good. The last 2 miles with Scott were tougher. Sunnier. Warmer. Thankfully, he did all the talking, which was a good distraction and allowed me to grunt one-word replies instead of talking in full sentences. Lots of bikers out, alone and in pairs or pelotons. Lots of runners too. Fewer walkers and no roller skiers. Heard the rowers on the river but couldn’t see them through the veil of green. All the surreys were lined up at the falls, waiting to clog up the paths and to irritate Scott. The falls were rushing. 2 separate bikers were listening to talk radio as they rode. One jogger, MPR. Overheard 2 women having an animated conversation about an irritating friend, running slow enough to really emote their frustration. After I passed them, I could hear their complaints for almost 30 seconds. Don’t remember seeing any dogs or hearing any birds. I did get to see my shadow for a few minutes. She led me to the falls then left–maybe she wanted to hike down by the river instead?

june 21/RUNSWIM

run: 2 miles, some running, some walking
first training session with son
mississippi river road path, north/south

This morning I ran with my son who is exactly three years older than his sister. I am amazed and excited that he’s willing to try running this summer. We didn’t talk that much but it was fun to be with him on the path. He usually spends most of his time in his room. What do I remember from our run? Allison, the voice on the couch25k app telling us to “run!”–which was the inspiration for the title of this blog. She says it so urgently and in such a prim, British accent that is always makes me laugh. It made my son laugh too.

swim: 3600 yards/2 miles/3 loops
lake nokomis

I did it! 3 loops. It took me an hour. I only stopped after each loop for less than a minute. Swimming in the 2 mile race will be a challenge in a few weeks. Swimming across the lake is an other worldly experience. Partly because I am in the water, unable to see or hear or feel much. But also because I’m so focused on getting across the lake. I don’t think about too much. I count the number of strokes I’m taking before I breathe. I constantly check for the big orange buoys or other swimmers or landmarks on the shore. Seeing the orange buoys is difficult, especially coming back to the big beach. Blinded by the sun, I rarely see more than the hint of orange or the vague sense of a looming triangle. It’s amazing how little I need to see to guide me. What did I notice on my swim? The water was brown and opaque. A few planes were flying overhead. The lifeguards had their kayaks set up too close to the buoys. My left leg started to hurt and so did my neck. The water was fairly calm and cold.

june 20/RUN

2 miles: some running, some walking
first training session with daughter
mississippi river road path, north/south

This summer I’m trying to get my kids to move just a little. Without constant prodding, they’d hole up in their rooms for their entire break. So, I’m making them run/walk a 5k in July. We started training this week with the first day of couch25k. 60 seconds of running + 90 seconds of walking x 9. Today was my daughter’s turn. We’ve tried this before with not much success, but she did much better this time. It still takes a lot of patience, but it was better. What do I remember from our run? Not much except for the annoying squirrel, incessantly chirping, from below.

june 19/RUNBIKESWIM

run: 4 miles
64 degrees/84% humidity
minnehaha falls loop

More water. Puddles on the path. A steady summer rain falling on my head. Listened to music while running the first two miles faster. Fun! But hot–shouldn’t have worn my pink jacket. Felt free and joyful to be out in the glowing green world.

Summer Rain/John Waters

Rain-woman,
Gray-haired,
Impatient,
You didn’t stay long
With your cloud-herd
And your silver shawl.
You went towards the East,
Flashing your whip
And thundering orders.
Perhaps a thirsty corn-field
Was calling you.

bike: 5 miles
nice and slow with Ro

Rosie and I biked over to our old neighborhood so she could get her haircut. An easy ride but I’m including it here because we got outside and moved. It was supposed to be done raining, but there was a fine mist as we biked by the river.

swim: .6 miles/1200 yards/1 loop
lake nokomis

Was planning to do 3 loops tonight but when it started raining heavily after the first loop I decided to stop. It would have been fun to swim more in the water but the visibility was really bad and I didn’t want to risk getting lost out in the middle of the lake.

Here are the notes I jotted down shortly after the swim: surface, smooth. cutting through the cold water. gliding. powerful. strong. clear vision. wetsuit. rain drops entering the water, shafts of water instead of light. after I finished, standing in the water watching the drops on the surface, like little dancing beads. so cool! did I see silver streaks below me as I swam–fish? now my muscles burn warmly. cool brown water, planes above. pouring rain when I exited the water. I didn’t care.

june 17/RUN

10 miles
68 degrees/94% humidity
downtown loop

A tough run. How did I run 10 miles so easily last year? Not sure. Enjoyed most of it, especially the first 5, which I did run without stopping. But I was very tired by the end and I took 2 long walk breaks in the middle. I’ll blame it on my nemesis, humidity. The theme for today’s run was water.

water

  • sloshing water in my hand held water bottle
  • water dripping from the dark green trees
  • feeling dreamy and untethered, only connected to the world by the feel of the wind hitting the sweat on the surface of my skin
  • sweat pooling on my face, not drips accumulating, just pools of water soaking my skin
  • my soaking wet pony-tail, hard strands of hair hitting the back of my neck and shoulders
  • the paper towel I keep in the bag attached to my hand held water bottle all wet because my water bottle leaks
  • the messy, sticky, wet skittles clumped together in that same bag
  • the rain falling, mostly from the sky, occasionally from a tree or a bridge
  • lots of puddles
  • the model posing for a photographer first above the mississippi and mill ruins park, then below
  • my wet shirt clinging to my back
  • the mississippi river below while I run above on the stone arch bridge, rushing and gushing and tumbling over itself at st. anthony falls
  • the bright green grass looking like glowing jewels next to the river
  • wondering whether I should stop and fill up my water bottle by the flats because it’s getting low (I don’t)
  • the three bikers stopping to drink water out of their bottles after climbing the BIG hill, blocking the entire path
  • my eyes stinging from the very salty sweat dripping off of my hair
  • running by several people taking shelter under the lake street bridge because of the rain
  • running in the rain, hearing a rumbling near franklin and wondering, is that thunder or a truck? Pretty sure it was a truck
  • finishing by the water fountain and drinking drinking drinking the cold water

Also, two not water related memories that make me happy: the line of roller skiers–maybe 15 or 20 of them!–passing me near the greenway and the tunnel of trees in my favorite part of the path, all green with a small, circular light at the end.

And a few other images: the way the straps of the tank top on the runner in front of me twisted off to the side–were they twisted because of his gait or the sticky humidity or what?; 2 walker and a big dog up ahead, taking over much of the path;the guy on an electric skateboard with bright LED lights on the front, traveling on the stone arch bridge; the biker who kindly warned me, “on your left”; the intense rushing of the cars on the river road as their drivers hurried to get where they were going; the group of kids walking down the road to the rowing club, near the lake street bridge, that same group walking back up it as I returned almost 90 minutes later–did they recognize me?

june 17/RUNSWIM

run: 3.25 miles
77 degrees/80% humidity
lake nokomis

So hot! The heat index was in the upper 80s, at least. Ran 1 loop with Scott and then a little bit extra on my own before open swim. I don’t remember much of the run except that we went slow, it was very hot and I didn’t feel tired just unmotivated. Maybe music could have helped? My entire face was dripping with sweat. The top of my head, my hair, my forehead, my cheeks, right below my nose. I do not like running in this heat but I still did it and I’m glad.

swim: 1.35 miles/2 loops
80 degrees/choppy water
lake nokomis

A great swim! Decided to be much more deliberate at the start, making sure that I could spot the buoys. Also looked for other swimmers and the lifeguards. After a few minutes, the buoy had completely disappeared but I was okay. I just kept swimming and stayed calm. Soon enough it came into view. For me, open water swimming is always unsettling–even as it’s exhilarating too–because I swim most of the time without being able to see where I’m going. I have to trust that I’m swimming straight and that the buoy will eventually appear. Most of the time it does. I’m sure that open water swimming is hard for everyone but it’s especially difficult for me and my messed up central vision. Whole sections of my central vision–especially those in the top quadrants are blacked out. When the buoy first appears in those areas, I can’t see it all. It’s a void, just endless blueish brownish undulating water. Often, I have to turn my head and use my peripheral vision to try and spot the buoy. A bit of a drag, really, but also good practice for learning to function with very limited vision. What else do I remember? Mostly breathed every five strokes except for when the water was too choppy on one side. Then I picked the side that wasn’t choppy, I think it was my right, and breathed every 6 to that side. Don’t remember seeing any planes or birds in the air. Didn’t notice any particular trees. No strange sounds. Just water. A overturned rowboat, its silver bottom exposed and glimmering in the sun at the little beach, and the white top of a building and the yellow paddle boats at the big beach. Had a few run-ins with other swimmers. One swimmer kept unintentionally pushing me off the far side until I abruptly stopped swimming and went around them the other way.

Speaking of breathing every 5 strokes, here’s a poem I started last year and then edited more this spring:

Every 5
Lake Nokomis, Minneapolis

I used to breathe every 3 strokes
Now I breathe every 5
lifting my head out of the water
1 2 3 4 5 breathe right
1 2 3 4 5 breathe left

I breathe every 5
Breathing oddly allows me to alternate sides
1 2 3 4 5 breathe right
1 2 3 4 5 breathe left
When I breathe every 5 I can stay underwater longer

Breathing oddly enables me to swim straighter
I don’t look underwater—
who can see through the dark murkiness?
I stay under longer, feeling the water lapping over my head
And forget that I am not a fish

I hardly look above the water—
all I see are flashes of white sails green trees orange buoys
I count my strokes 1 2 3 4 5
And try to forget that there are probably fish
swimming below me through the brown nothingness.

I count my strokes 1 2 3 4 5 breathe right
1 2 3 4 5 breathe left
and listen to the water lapping over my head
gliding rhythmically through the brown nothingness
as I swim straight across the lake to the other side.

june 16/RUN

4 miles
mississippi river road path, north/south
72 degrees/91% humidity

Ran at noon when the rain and thunder finally stopped. Started raining again while I was running. Not sure how hard or how much–was it earlier rain dripping from the trees or sweat dripping from my face or a new, light steady drizzle landing on my head? All three, I think. My favorite part of the path was a gorgeous green. Lots of twigs and chunks of wood littered the path. Luckily, no big branches blocking my way. Legs felt strong. Pace didn’t feel too hard. Listened to my playlist, sometimes floating, sometimes flying. Saw some other runners. A few walkers. No bikers or rollerbladers or roller skiers.

Lots of water everywhere. Rain, wet leaves, puddles on the path, dripping sweat. Speaking of water, found this beautiful poem the other day:

Wind, Water, Stone
BY OCTAVIO PAZ
TRANSLATED BY ELIOT WEINBERGER

for Roger Caillois

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.

Wind sings in its whirling,
water murmurs going by,
unmoving stone keeps still.
Wind, water, stone.

Each is another and no other:
crossing and vanishing
through their empty names:
water, stone, wind.

june 14/RUN

3 miles
gitchie-gami trail, north shore
60 degrees

Partly cloudy. Calm. Ran with Scott while we were up at the north shore for a few days. Shared the trail with some noisy crows and lots of hills. Ran next to speeding trucks, impatient cars, the sweet smell of pine trees and the beautifully blue lake superior.

Earlier this week, I discovered a new form: double abcedarians. Love the challenge! Here are 2 I have created so far. The first has the first letter traveling up the alphabet and the last letter traveling down. The second, does the opposite.

Walking in the woods, you hear a noise

A thump. A crash. A bzzzz.
Bugs or birds or something big and hairy?
Counting calmly, deliberately to six
Does not help slow
Elevated heart rates that rev
Fast. You
Grimace and try to reach the magic digit
Hoping it saves.
It doesn’t. Your
Jumping heart races loudly roughly. The biorhythmic eq
Kept out of sync as lungs fail to expand, heart valves don’t pump.
Laboring, a frantic vibrato.
Mouth jaggedly inhales than
Nose reluctantly releases air from
Overworked lungs until
Pulmonary veins do their work.
Quick beats slow soften are quiet. The noise returns. Maybe it’s only a blue j
Rustling in the woods vigorously, loudly, sounding as big as a yeti
Scratches amplified in the dry brush?
Tricked again into contemplating
Uncomfortable thoughts of
Violent demise.
What, you wonder, could
eXtremely large humanish-y bears do to you, alone in the woods? Don’t panic.
You don’t want to startle this type of bear. Running off frantically is dumb.
Zoologists know this. They have done the research. They have all the gruesome data.

the yellow bike

Zoom. a
yellow bike passes by the curb
extra close to me, making the air feel kinetic
wild, unrestrained.
Veering into my path, the
unapologetic rider pedals off
to terrorize someone else who is running.
Silently, I fume and rehash.
Red-faced, a tsunami
quaking with over-blown outrage. I wonder, what would J
P Sartre think
of my reaction? Would he condemn it as bad faith? An existential
no no, giving other ways of being no room?
Maybe the yellow-biked rider had a reason,
like they were riding closer to say hello or to
keep me company as I ran on the path or to offer up
jokes—corny, idiotic ones that don’t require a high IQ?
I suppose these are plausible. Or
how about this:
gnats flew in his ear, down his throat
flustered, he failed to call out, “hey you!”
Edging close, all he could do was a hasty improv—
deftly swerving, just barely avoiding me, our escape from collision, narrow.
Could this be why? Stop with all this theorizing and relax—
bikers will bike by too closely
and it might just be because they’re a ditz.

june 12/RUNSWIM

run: 8 miles
lake nokomis loop, short
70 degrees/80% humidity

Began the morning with a longish run. It was hot and humid. I was sweating before I finished the first mile. Overcast. So many cars on the river road whooshing past. Was it something about the air quality–the humidity?–that made the whooshing noise seem more hurried or was it just because people were rushing to get to work? Ran slow and steady. Decided I would run to the lake without stopping and then, on the return trip, take walk breaks. Enjoyed running beside the creek. I can’t remember running on my favorite part of the path at all–I remember running right before it and right after it, but not in it. Strange. The creek water was subdued. Surprised with all the snow that we got in April that it wasn’t gushing more. Almost to the lake, ran by the Dinosaur park at the rec center and remembered when my kids were younger and would play here. Both kids had their earliest pre-school classes here over 10 years ago. The lake was refreshing. A nice breeze that mixed with my sweat to make me extra cool. While running there, I kept thinking about how the first open swim of the season is tonight! Can’t wait. This year, I’m hoping to swim more and write more about swimming. Walked for .3 miles and then started running again–10 minutes of running, 2 minutes of walking. Nice. Much easier. And I ran much faster. I think these breaks will help my legs recover faster–I hope. Tried very hard to not think about how I will need to run what I ran today plus 5 more miles in a 1/2 marathon race on the fourth of july. I was mostly successful.

Highlight of the run: Almost finished, I saw an older biker up ahead with a red, wide brimmed hat over her helmet. Never seen that before. How wonderful it is to be old and not give a fuck about how ridiculous you look!

swim: 1.37 miles/2 loops/2400 yards
lake nokomis open swim!

Started open swim with a bang: got the farthest off course that I ever have. Way off course. So far off course that I was almost to the other shore. The lifeguard had to come get me. As I swam back to the buoys I wondered, has my vision got that much worse? But, once I finished the loop and switched out my dark googles for the light ones, I realized that it was the googles. Ugh. I hate not being able to see where I’m going, to feel completely blind, just swimming into nothing. That’s how it felt. I’m glad I did another loop and that I could actually see the second time. Hopefully that won’t make me too freaked out next time I get in the water. I will have to chant to myself: it was the googles, not my vision. In good news, I wore my nose plug and I don’t seem stuffed up at all.

june 11/RUN

2.25 miles
mississippi river road path, south/north
65 degrees/78% humidity

2 fast miles with a 1/2 mile warm up. A storm coming. Dark sky, dark green trees. Heavy air. Turned right instead of left. A lone rollerblader. A few runners. A walker with a stroller. A walker without a stroller. Birds chirping. Lots of wind but none of it bothering me. Greeted a few runners. Flew over some dips in the pavement. After several years of running this path, I think I’ve memorized all the hidden holes that wait to trip me. Didn’t look down at the river or notice the trees or smell the gorge or hear the noise my foot made as it struck the ground. Also didn’t hear the sound of my belt rubbing my shorts or my jagged breaths. The faster I run the less I remember.

june 10/RUN

6 miles
65 degrees/84% humidity
the flats

A great run! Walking towards the river, before my run, everything was still and quiet–except for the birds, which were chattering. Not too many people out yet even though it was past 7:30. Near the start of my run, greeted the welcoming oaks and a few runners. The part of the trail that dips below the road and above the gorge was dark and green and mysterious.

wheels

Near the old stone steps, saw 2 parents helping a kid ride their bike. Then heard a bike’s brakes squeaking loudly and longly behind me. The wheel of truck made a clicking noise as it traveled–something must be caught in the tread. Behind me, slowing approaching, a bike gear clicked into place. A lone rollerblader bladed by.  Heard, but didn’t see, a roller skier heading for the greenway path. In the flats, running on the bike path because the walking path is in terrible shape, heard a biker call out “bike path!”–or did they say, “biker behind.”  Stewed over it for a minute. Imagined calling out, “you try running on that path!”

Turned around at the top of the hill and headed home. Made it up the Franklin hill without stopping and kept going–a big victory. Took a short walk and then ran the last mile faster, finishing strong.

Thinking about wheels and bicycles, decided to look for a poem on the subject. Found this fun one:

Nun on a Bicycle
by Jonathan Edwards

Now here she comes, rattling over cobbles,
powered by her sandals, the gentle downhill
and the grace of God. Now here she comes, her habit

what it was always waiting to become:
a slipstream. Past stop signs, the pedestrian
traffic at rush hour, the humdrum mopeds,

on a day already thirty in the shade:
with her robe fluttering like solid air,
she makes her own weather. Who could blame her

as the hill sharpens, she picks up speed and smiles
into her future, if she interrupted
the Our Fathers she’s saying in her head,

to say Whee, a gentle Whee, under her breath?
O cycle, Sister! Look at you now, freewheeling
through the air conditioning of the morning –

who’s to say the God who isn’t there
isn’t looking down on you and grinning?

june 9/RUN

2 miles
dogwood coffee

Sticky, thick air. Overcast. A sky more white than gray. Body felt heavy, tethered to the ground. Didn’t see any roller skiers but Scott and I did see the serious rollerbladers. 6 this time. In formation. Swinging their arms. The view from the rim of the floodplain forest was nothing but green. How buggy is it down there, I wonder? Heard the rowers on the river practicing or were they racing?

june 8/RUN

5.25 miles
69 degrees/79% humidity
franklin loop

Ran with headphones. Looked at the river today but only quick glimpses through the trees. Cloudy with no sun. Gray. The kind of gray that doesn’t make the green glow. Legs felt strong. So did the wind as I ran across the Lake Street bridge. Almost blew my visor off which is impressive because this visor–“swag” from the Torchlight race a few years ago–is tight. Earlier this spring, I finally decided that my beloved green baseball cap was too worn to wear.  The fraying at the top of the cap had turned into several holes. And it was barely green or any color. I traded it out for the visor.The visor is boring, lacking the personality and history of my twins’ baseball cap, but it works well enough at staying on my head and soaking up the sweat and keeping my hair out of my eyes. I wonder, will I wear it all summer?

june 7/RUN

4 miles
top of franklin hill turn around
65 degrees/60% humidity

No headphones. Heard lots of birds and cars rushing by and my feet striking the path and a school group down in the gorge and people I passed, talking. Didn’t see the Daily Walker–maybe my run is too short? Didn’t see any roller skiers. Did see one rollerblader. Admired the welcoming oaks and the pink heart yarn bomb. Wrinkled my nose at the stink coming up from the sewer, near the lake street bridge. Successfully avoided the cracks in the sidewalk, near the greenway. Didn’t see the river, not even once. Also didn’t see my shadow even though she was there somewhere. Thought I saw my dead mom again, running towards near my favorite part of the path. Practiced some rhythmic breathing: in 2 3, out 2. Tried to catch the runners ahead of me. Felt good and strong and happy. Glad I decided to run the 5k instead of the 1/2 marathon next month.

june 6/RUN

2.3 miles
65 degrees
mississippi river road path, south/north

A quick run with a playlist. Ran because it’s global running day. Because I needed to forget about the difficult morning trying to get a girl to go to school. And because I could. Jogged to the river, turned right towards the falls and then ran much faster than I usually do. First mile: 7:39. Felt good. Free. I think my body likes running faster.

This morning I discovered double abcedarians and I’m in love. What a challenging form. The first one I read had 26 lines. Each line started with the alphabet going up (a b c …) and ended with the alphabet going down (z y x …).

Alcatraz
beneath a sky
crouching low and black as onyx

The second one I read had 26 lines, with each line starting with the alphabet going down and ending with the alphabet going up.

Zooks! What have I done with my anthologies? I’ll need a
year of sleep after writing my millionth review (with aplomb).
XX bottles of moonshine litter my bedside table like arsenic.

june 5/RUNBIKESWIM

run: 4 miles, top of franklin hill turn around
bike: 8.8 miles, lake nokomis and back
swim: 1/2 mile, lake nokomis

run

65 degrees. Sunny. Only a little wind. Not too much humidity. A great morning for a run. I’m writing this several hours after the run so I don’t remember too much of it. Ran in the shade. Saw some runners and walkers, no Daily Walker or roller skiers. For some reason, I thought about house keys and where you might hide a spare one. Why (and why do I remember this detail and not much else)?

bike

I’m getting used to biking again and that feeling of not quite being able to see the path. The bike path was crowded, especially on the way back, after my swim. Passed a biker near the falls, alerting them with my usual “on your left” and they said “thank you.” I like when other bikers do that. I try to do it too. It seems rare to hear people actually alert you. Lately I’ve been working hard to not let it bother me. Noticed that sky was bright blue and cloudless. Saw lots of birds’ shadows flying overhead. Mostly small birds. Locking up my bike at the beach, I heard an older woman compliment a younger woman on “her bright yellow bike.” She had a bright yellow bike too, but it was stolen out her garage. She misses that bike.

swim

The water was clear, but not nearly as clear as it had been last week. Still, I was a bit unsettled by it, not wanting to run into any big fish or see them swimming below me. Almost ran into a small dead fish, floating a few feet in front of me. Yuck! Noticed the sloshing of the water a few times. Looked around and saw shafts of light, more like slivers of light, cutting through the brown water. Swam just outside the beach area and saw how the lake floor dropped off. Mostly avoided the plants growing up from the bottom–I think it’s the invasive Eurasian watermilfoil–but one strand? leaf? branch? tapped at my ankle and freaked me out. Didn’t think about much except for how nervous I was about what might be swimming with me. For some reason, swimmer just on the edge of the big beach is scarier to me than swimming across the lake. Strange.

june 3/RUN

4 miles
59 degrees/16 mph wind
top of franklin hill turn around

What a great run! Ran much faster today and it felt good. Ran without headphones and listened to the wind swirling and whirling. Admired the green glow of the gorge. Heard the rowers on the river. Spotted a few roller skiers and the 4 rollerbladers. As they passed me, one said to the rest, “you overanalyze things too much.” Croaked out a “good morning” to a runner who greeted me first. Tried to be patient as a runner slowly approached me from behind, his feet constantly rustling in the strip of grass between the path and the road. Hit a wall of wind about a mile in. Didn’t smell anything. Didn’t inhale a bug, although one got stuck in my eye as I ran up from under the lake street bridge. Didn’t encounter any large groups of runners. Didn’t want to stop. Didn’t think about much except for trying to keep my shoulders from tightening up and my left fingers from rubbing together too much. Glanced at the light pink heart yarn bomb. Ran down the hill by the lake street bridge fast, leaning forward, letting gravity do the work. Felt joyful and free and glad to be out early on a Sunday morning.

june 2/RUN

2 miles
to dogwood coffee
62 degrees

My 7th anniversary of running. It was supposed to rain so I didn’t think I’d be running outside today, but the rain held off and Scott and I were able to do our new summer Saturday tradition: run 2 miles to Dogwood Coffee for a latte, either iced or hot. Today, hot. Then walk home.

With rain on the way, the sky was a light gray, making the green glow. Not glowing brightly but darkly and deeply, vividly. Everything felt green. Looked green. Smelled green.

Almost at the end of our run I heard the distinctive clickity-clack of ski poles. A roller skier! Why do I enjoy spotting them on the trail? I guess because it seems so Minnesotan to be skiing with wheels in the summer, just waiting for winter to come back. About a minute later, Scott and I also saw a group of four roller bladers with their coach. As we passed them, I heard the coach say, “Ok, get in formation.” I’ve seen these speedy bladers for a few years now, sometimes on the path, sometimes on the road. Skating in a tight single-filed line, swinging their arms widely and rhythmically. Growing up in North Carolina and Southern Virginia, where it hardly ever snowed and the only ice was at the big indoor rink at the Charlotte mall, spotting these roller skiers and serious bladers will probably always seem strange and exciting.

 

june 1/RUNSWIM

run: 4.5 miles
swim: 680 yards
lake nokomis
67 degrees/80% humidity
water temp: 75.9 degrees

First, I ran around the lake (almost) twice. Slightly cooler today but still humid and very sunny. Ran without headphones, trying to work on rhythmic breathing and staying focused. Encountered lots of walkers with other walkers or strollers or dogs. Crowded. Almost all the way around for the first loop, I noticed a paddleboat hiding behind a tree on the shore. Was it abandoned or tucked away or just waiting for the paddlers to come back? Is this the same paddleboat that I saw on the grass near the fishing pier last week?  Is someone taking paddleboats from the rental place? Did the paddleboat manage to escape–seems like there’s a fun poem just waiting to be written about the bright yellow paddleboat that wanders the lake.

After finishing the run, I decided to swim. The water was warm which is amazing considering the lake still had ice at the end of April! Guess all those 90+ degree days really warmed it up fast. The water was also clear. Freak-me-out clear. I could see the bottom and the algae plants growing up from the bottom and the fish swimming below me. I have decided that it is better to swim without being able to see what I’m swimming with. If I can’t see it, I can pretend it’s not there, which is probably what it would like too. The coolest part of the clear water was seeing all the shafts of light piercing through the lake. 3, 4, maybe more. I also liked being able to look at the bottom in the beach area–I think I counted 5 or 6 hair bands, lost to their owners forever. I might have swam longer but there were a few school groups at the beach and I was concerned that some of the kids would mess with my stuff. I couldn’t tell if they were in elementary or middle school, but they sure knew how to yell out “fuck” at the top of their lungs. A kid that will brazenly yell out “fuck this” or “fuck you” or preface many words with “fucking” on a school trip might find it amusing to throw my towel in the water or take my sweatshirt. But getting back to how clear the water was, part of me wishes I had spent more time exploring underwater and studying the bottom–how deep it gets, what’s really down there. But, another part of me–perhaps a bigger part–likes the idea of keeping it a mystery. Knowing more might make me more anxious or disappointed in how un-mysterious it is.

Next time I swim, I’d like to pay attention to the sounds and sensations of swimming. What exactly do I hear besides sloshing?

may 31/RUN

6.7 miles
bohemian flats and back
70 degrees/90% humidity/dew point: 67

Was planning to run 9 miles this morning but I started too late and it was too hot. Why is it so hard for me to run in the summer heat? The first 3 miles were fine: I saw the Daily Walker, glanced down at the gorge, settled into a dream-like state of moving without effort. But then something happened. I got hot. It got hard. I started thinking about how far I was planning to run and the 2 big hills I had to climb and doubt creeped in. Was it all psychological, this inability to keep going? I’m not sure but I’m not disappointed that I stopped.

addendumI almost forgot. I saw a bright pink yarn bomb in the shape of a heart on the railing just past the lake street bridge! It made me smile. I like the random whimsy of yarn bombs.

Here’s an excerpt from a poem about heat that seems effective:

The heat pours into their throats and ears.

It fills their lungs with a smothering staleness.

The heat blots out the conscientiousness

That made billy pick up the litter

That kept tracy from slamming the door.

Under heat, the lightness is lethargy

The buckled-up discontent bursts

And the delicate brain-curves unravel.

may 29/BIKERUNBIKE

bike to lake nokomis and back: 8.8 miles
run around lake nokomis: 2 miles
82 degrees

And the heat wave continues. Decided to bike to the lake. Was planning to swim when I got there, but I cut my finger pitting cherries yesterday and I’m wary of open swimming with an open wound. So, I ran instead. So hot! Even in the shade. Managed to run almost all the way around. Stopped at 2 miles. Saw a few other people running. Mostly slowly and miserably. Ended my run near the fishing dock. A paddle boat was up on the grass with no one around. How did it get here?How long has it been here? Where are its paddlers? When I got back to the big beach, I returned to my bike and grabbed my water bottle. The ice had melted, but the water was still cool. Then I walked into the water. It’s warmed up fast! A few people were out swimming, doing wide loops around the white buoys. Standing on the sandy lake bottom so clear and clean with the water almost up to my chest, the sun reflected off of the waves, bright and sharp, hurting my eyes. Not nearly as pleasing as the sun-casted shadows of leaves dancing in the breeze near the bike rack that memorized me before my run. Leaving the water I felt cold. Mostly refreshed but chilled too. And wet. Dripping, not from sweat, but from a wet suit. Later, drying off my sandy feet at a picnic table. I heard the click click clack beep of a metal detector as a man slowly walked around the trees near the trail. I’ve seen people–only men, actually–in the lake looking for treasure, but not in the grass. Did he find anything?

Found a short story online called Water In Its Three Forms. I like the idea of organizing a short lyric essay/prose poem around the theme of water. So much of what I wrote about in today’s entry involves water!

may 28/RUN

4 miles
mississippi river road path, north/south
83 degrees/dew point: 64

Wilting. Melting. Sweating. Sticking. Dripping. Barely 8 in the morning and even the shade is thick with heat. By the end of the first mile, my pony-tail is dripping sweat onto my shoulder. Breathing is difficult. My chest hurts. My face feels bright red. Hardly any moments of clarity, where I wander into a thought or an image or an idea. What, other than heat, do I remember? My favorite part of the path, just above the steep slope down to the river, was cool and dark. I greeted the Daily Walker. Most of the path was in the shade, even if it was still hot. I saw groups of bikers, runners, a rollerblader, a roller skier, walkers with dogs or children or coffee in their hands–I hope it was iced. Listened to a playlist that was stuck on a short loop, playing the same 5 songs 3 times in a row.

During the winter, I focused on the sounds of crunching snow. Maybe for the summer, I’ll focus on the textures and sensations of sweat and heat? Will this source help me? Thermodynamics in verse, the poetry of heat. (note, 28 may 2024: this link no longer works)

may 27/RUN

3 miles
mississippi road path, north/south
76 degrees/67% humidity

Another hot run. Ran the first mile fast, then took a few walk breaks. Listened to headphones and blocked out the world. Greeted the Daily Walker at the end. Don’t remember much else.

may 26/RUN

2 miles
73 degrees/68% humidity/dewpoint: 62
dogwood run

Ran with Scott north on the river road to the greenway, through Brackett Park, over to Lake Street, then walked to Dogwood Coffee for an iced latte. Hot. Humid. But no swarming bugs and lots of shade. We talked most of the time. Scott about why “The Last Jedi” was a bad movie, me about a two different race disasters that I had watched on YouTube–one runner hitting the wall at the end of a 10K, another tripping over a hurdle. Noticed the tree that had blocked Scott’s path yesterday had been moved and cut up. As we ran by it I asked Scott, “I wonder how loud of a crack that tree made as it hit the ground?” I don’t think I’ve ever heard a tree fall to the ground but I bet it’s loud.

may 25/RUN

4 miles
to minnehaha falls and back again
67 degrees/91% humidity/dewpoint 61

Ran early this morning. 6 am and already 67 degrees. Today, 90. Tomorrow, 95. Sunday, 97. I do not like running in the heat. This morning it was okay, especially since I was only running 4 miles. When I got to the river, I turned right instead of my usual left and headed towards the falls. A few minutes after me, Scott went out for a run too, but turned left at the river. My path was clear but his was blocked by a big tree, split in two during the heavy winds and thunderstorm last night. Listened to my running playlist so I didn’t hear birds or rushing water or snapping branches. I have no memory of what I thought about while I ran other than mundane running thoughts like: “I feel like I’m running fairly fast but I bet I’m running slow. I shouldn’t look because then I will just feel bad.” or “I need to make sure to focus on using my left leg so I can build up the muscles in it.” or “I don’t know if this rhythmic breathing works for me.” What else do I remember about my run? Running right by the falls and enjoying the coolness of the spray from the gushing water on my face and arms. Happily drinking water from the fountain that has finally been turned on. Feeling soaked from sweat even before the end of the first mile.  No bikes. No roller skiers or roller bladers or dogs or bugs. One squirrel that almost darted in front of me but then wisely turned around. Several pairs of runners, one trio. A woman stretching her calves on the concrete ledge where Longfellow’s “The Song of Hiawatha” is etched.

Again, everything was green. A lush, post-rain green that glows and overwhelms and spills out over the path from below and above. Late May is very early for that shaggy, scruffy, weedy, much too green feeling. I usually don’t feel that until July or August. I love the green, but I’m ambiguous about weeds. In theory, I appreciate their unruly resilience but, even so, I struggle to see beyond their disruptive excess–blocking my view of the river, covering the path, housing too many bugs. Here are 2 poems for reflecting further on this ambiguity, one that I encountered today, the other I read last fall:

Long Live the Weeds/Theodore Roethke

Long live the weeds that overwhelm
My narrow vegetable realm!—
The bitter rock, the barren soil
That force the son of man to toil;
All things unholy, marked by curse,
The ugly of the universe.
The rough, the wicked, and the wild
That keep the spirit undefiled.
With these I match my little wit
And earn the right to stand or sit,
Hope, look, create, or drink and die:
These shape the creature that is I.

Surrender/Geraldine Connolly

Rogue seedlings flank
the front bank.

Aspen roots lift
asphalt
from the driveway’s face.

I can hear
growth

like a crackle
of flames.
I watch a frantic

squirrel hoard
pinecones,
strip them clean.

Weeds choke the garden,
thorns and buffelgrass.
Wild blackberries seethe.

I scrub green moss.
Still it spreads its stain

across the deck, and
falls into cracks where
green sprouts flare up.

I fight against surrender but
the trees call to me
as they creep forward.
The forest wants to take us back.

may 23/RUN

5.1 miles
67 degrees/81% humidity
the franklin loop

3 miles in, I decided to stop and walk on the franklin bridge. I’m glad I did. Looking out over the Mississippi, I saw one of the biggest birds I’ve ever seen. To me and my questionable vision, it looked almost like a mini-plane floating way up in the sky. Wow, what a wing span! Could it have been a broad-winged hawk or an eagle or a kestrel or a falcon? No idea, but it was cool to see. Tried rhythmic breathing while chanting in my head:

raspberry/coulis
strawberry/custard
mundane is/monday
terrible/tuesday
wonderful/wednesday
terrific/thursday
fabulous/friday
saturday/so so

Not sure how it works for me, but I’ll try it again next time I run. Didn’t see the Daily Walker but was able to greet a few other runners. Didn’t see many bikes or roller-skiers or dogs. Smelled some lilac bushes. Heard the hum of traffic and the shuffle shuffle scratch scratch of my feet on the gritty path. I finished at my favorite part of the path and before the mosquitoes found me, I enjoyed stopping and peering down into the gorge. And I realized: I’ve been writing about the gorge in the summer as having a thick, green veil that blocks your view. That’s not quite right. The trees are thick and you can’t see the river, that’s true, but they don’t totally block your view of what’s down below. Part of what makes it feel so mysterious is how the trees are spaced out, offering quick flashes of more than green. When I look closely, I can see the steep slope and the trunks of the trees reaching above and below me. Even as I can’t see the floor of the floodplain forest, I feel it and how high above it I am. I’d like to spend more time studying this spot and figuring out how to better describe it.

bonus: here’s a great list of the birds found near the Mississippi River Gorge. What’s a mergenser or a tern? I need to find out.