So far, I have run on September 25th, every day since starting this log. I began running in June of 2011. How many September 25ths did I run on before starting this log?
2017, 2018, 2019, 2020, 2021, 2022
sept 25, 2017/ WALK/ no temperature recorded
Almost ready to start running again (2 more weeks), after my first big injury — the one that made me unable to run my first marathon. Is this one of my first, things I noticed, list? Also, at the end, an invitation to experiment. I have a lot of these questions about different ways of remembering/recording my thoughts sprinkled throughout my log entries.
What did I notice?
- The gigantic cottonwood trees that made my neck ache and my head dizzy as I tried to look up at them.
- The huge hostas that encircled another cottonwood tree, a little further up the street.
- The burnt gold of the leaves of another tree. A maple, maybe or an oak? For the past few years, I’ve mostly seen glowing yellow leaves; these were golden.
- The bright pinks and yellows of the zinnias.
- The crows cawing as we walked through the Dowling community garden.
- The wooden camel lawn ornament in the yard of a house right next to the garden.
- The buzzing of the cicadas–more intensely electric in the morning, a slower hum in the afternoon
- A police siren.
- The walnut shells, broken up and discarded, that looked almost like mounds of poop, at least to me.
- The stillness of the air and the Mississippi river. No rowers on the river.
- The bright blue lights that framed the inside of the front window of a house.
That’s all I remember. How different would this list be if I had composed it right after getting back from my walk, or while I was on the walk?
sept 25, 2018/ 5 miles/ 52 degrees
Two things to comment on from this entry.
1
Wondering why a car was parked on the sidewalk just in front of the franklin avenue bridge with its headlights on.
Re-reading this line, I instantly pictured that moment. Not in fine detail, but the feel of it. I remember running down the hill and seeing this car, wondering what it was doing there, feeling a little uneasy by its presence.
2
Running up the hill, almost to the top, and noticing how the tree line carved out the sky, making it almost look like a river, wondering if the world was upside down.
I’m not sure if this is the first time I noticed how the tree line looks like a river here. I seem to notice it, and then forget about it, until I notice it again. This happened just last week, on sept 18th:
I think I’ve mentioned this image sometime in the past — heading up the second half of the franklin hill, the stretch after the bridge but before the top, the trees on either side frame the sky in such a way that it looks like the shape of the Mississippi River. Very cool to see and to imagine everything upside down, with the sky as river, the ground as sky.
sept 25, 2019/ 3.35 miles/ 63 degrees
the trestle
Earlier this morning, before my run, I started to think about the Railroad trestle and its history so I looked it up. It’s called the Short Line Bridge and it was built in 1880. It carried passengers from Minneapolis to St. Paul until 1971. Now it has a single track and is owned by Canadian Pacific (CP). In the time I have been running by/near this trestle (5 years on a regular basis), I can only remember seeing 2 trains. One crossing right over my head as I ran under it and one traveling on the tracks as I biked on the Midtown Greenway trail which starts at the end of the bridge and follows the trail across Minneapolis. For the past decade, ever since the greenway was built, bikers have been interested in extending the greenway over this bridge and to St. Paul and the bike trails there. I haven’t had time to read it closely yet, but here’s an article on the most recent efforts. It would be awesome if they could do this!
Since writing this in 2019, I have seen and heard the train at least once, maybe twice, more. I was very excited about it. I often think about this history of this bridge as I run under it, now that I know a little more about it.
sept 25, 2020/ 3 miles/ 66 degrees
I saw a kid running around in circles, enjoying the freedom and the breeze and maybe also making the leaves crunch as he ran. I did that last night while Scott, Delia, and I were on our walk. I love that sound!
I’m trying to remember this moment. I almost can, but not quite. I’d like to put it in a poem.
sept 25, 2021/ 4.25 miles / 47 degrees
Yes, a cool morning! Ran to the falls and back. Early enough that it wasn’t too crowded. It feels like fall. Lots of yellow, a little orange, some red. Felt strong. I’m writing this a day later, so I don’t remember much. Heard at least one woodpecker. The falls were falling — not rushing or gushing, but falling. Lots of people in the parking lot already, early on a Saturday morning. Saw 2 turkeys chilling by the side of the bike trail near the double bridge.
Reading this and thinking about how it compares to this year: It’s 5 degrees warmer. Still more yellow than orange or red. Haven’t heard any woodpeckers in a long time. The falls aren’t falling at all — the creek very dry. Haven’t seen any turkeys this week.
sept 25, 2022/ 3.1 miles / 57 degrees
Found this Niedecker poem on twitter the other day. I love her poetry.
Along the river
wild sunflowers
over my head
the dead
who gave me life
give me this
our relative the air
floods
our rich friend
Finding this poem, I’d like to spend more time with Lorine Niedecker in October, re-visiting her poems, reading more about her life, thinking about how her vision loss (she had nystagmus) shaped her later writing. Already, though, I have too many great ideas for October: 1. Emily Dickinson — listen to the new podcast about the show + rewatch Dickinson + revisit ED’s poem, 2. More time on Haunts and poems connected with death, 3. Study 2 October poems: October/ May Swenson and October/ Louise Glück. Too many ideas!