november 17, 2022 / 5.5 miles / 26 degrees / snow
On this day in 2022 it was snowing and I was thinking about the form for a series of poems that I’m working on about my color vision. I wanted (and often still do, a year later) want to use Ishihara’s colorblind plates. I also wrote about duck duck gray duck and a wonderful poem that I might want to memorize: The Geese/ Jane Mead
november 17, 2021 / 5.35 miles / 39 degrees / gusts: 28 mph
Things to note from this entry: more November wind, a woodpecker knocking on the roof of a park kiosk, how I used my run to work through some ideas for a poem, finding (and correcting) a spelling mistake: I typed pome instead of poem, which is how I pronounce poem — 1 syllable with a silent e and long o, and this delightful poem: In Passing/ MATTHEW SHENODA
november 17, 2020 / bike/run / basement
I exercised in the afternoon and discovered that I like it:
I liked exercising in the afternoon. It helps me feel less sleepy. Maybe I should try it some more?
Yes, I would like to add in a few afternoon workouts.
november 17, 2019 / 4 miles / 38 degrees
Sometime during my run, I thought about beginnings, middles, and ends, and wrote this:
Thought about how my recent poems about this route almost all take place at the beginning or the end of the run–is it because I am not thinking about anything during the middle of it?
Is it difficult to write about the middle because I’m in it, and can’t/don’t want to stop to record my thoughts? That could be a fun thing to try: middle poems. How? By middle, what do I mean? The part of the run after I’ve warmed up? In the middle of ascending (or descending?) a hill? In the middle of a thought? One idea: run for 10 or so minutes, then have a thought or compose a sentence or a line. Record it into your phone. Later, take the middle of the sentence and turn it into a poem.