sept 23/RUN

6 miles
ford loop
52 degrees

Fall running! Very sunny and bright. Studied the welcoming oaks at the start of my run: the two straight trunks at the beginning,the one leaning in to whisper in my ear, the other leaning back, its limbs spread out almost as if to yell, “watch out!” Also noticed the light piercing through the trees at my favorite part of the run, below the road, above the gorge. Glowing. Radiant. I decided to pay attention to the noises I heard: a siren, the feet of an approaching runner, the bullhorn of the rowing coach, cars driving by, music being blasted from a bike’s radio, the shuffling scratching sound of my feet on the gritty gravel, the dripping of the water from the drain on the st. paul side, the clickity clacking of a roller skier’s poles, the wind in the trees, the quiet steady buzzing hum of bugs in the green tunnel. Crossing the lake street bridge, I watched a shell with 4 or 5 rowers on the river. Sometimes they were blocked by the railing. I craned my neck to catch another glimpse of them. Later, I noticed them as I crossed the Ford bridge. A small blip in the middle of the big river. I didn’t see much fall color–maybe I wasn’t paying attention?–but I smelled fall on the path, traveling down from the Ford Bridge to the locks and dam #1. Musty, earthy leaves decaying in the dirt. Didn’t encounter too many runners and no big groups. Felt strong and decided to run a bit extra so I could reach 6 miles.

sept 21/RUN

8.2 miles
franklin loop + extra
52 degrees/wind: 21 mph with gusts up to 32 mph

8.2 miles without stopping. This is the most I’ve run without stopping since before my knee injury in June of 2017. It felt good. I was originally planning just to run the Franklin loop but I was feeling good and decided to keep going. Running an extra 3 miles is a big mental victory for me. I rarely can get myself to run extra. And I didn’t mind the wind. I used to hate the wind, now I love it. Strange. The only time it was really bad was on the lake street bridge heading back to Minneapolis. I was running straight into it. A couple of times I was worried I would be blown across the path.

What else do I remember? 10+ Things I Noticed

  1. the gray sky, how it made the green glow softly
  2. saw a roller skier (west side of river) and a rollerblader (east side)
  3. the runner passing me from behind, his long stride looked relaxed but slightly strange
  4. the clicking of a gear being changed on a bike
  5. Minneapolis parks people out repainting the walking/biking signs on the path
  6. hearing one of their vehicles rapidly approaching from behind, then watching it speed by beside me
  7. flashes of yellow and orange almost hidden in the green trees
  8. the blue gray Mississippi
  9. my left shoulder aching every so often
  10. feeling warm, then cooling off because of the wind
  11. noticing the metal steps on the st. paul side that Scott, Rosie and I walked up last weekend when we checked out Meeker Lock and Dam
  12. running above, trying to look down below to see where the dog park path is
  13. the beautiful view of the river and the tree line on the path just past the lake street bridge
  14. the orange vest of a gardener digging up dirt by the side of the road
  15. feeling strong and not bothered by how strong the wind was
  16. turning onto the river road path and falling in behind a runner in shorts and a gray sweatshirt. Not sure how fast she was running, but it was faster than me

sept 20/RUN

4.2 miles
mississippi river road path, north/south/north again
60 degrees/rain

A steady rain. Not torrential but constant and very wet. Today might be one of the first times I went out to run and it was already raining. Usually I try to get a quick run in before it starts but end up getting stuck in it. Today it started to rain before I could leave and I went anyway. And I didn’t mind. I think I might be done ever running inside on a track. I’ll run in heat, snow, rain, wind, below zero temperatures. Lot of conditions…except thunderstorms.

The theme for today’s run: water

List: 10+ types of water experienced

  1. soft, steady rain falling straight down
  2. rain collecting on the bill of my visor, always a single drop sitting in the corner of my peripheral vision
  3. a soaked shirt sticking to my stomach
  4. soggy shoes and socks
  5. huge puddles on the sidewalk on the way to the river, hard to run around, hard to leap over
  6. wet, slick leaves on the path, not slippery just saturated
  7. drops playing a constant downbeat on the trees grass dirt….I wondered as I ran: is rain always steady, in 4/4 time? Anyone ever heard triplets or a 16th note rest?
  8. running too close to the edge of the path and getting a face full of wet branch
  9. water dripping on my head, dripping through my visor, mixing with the sweat on my forehead
  10. spray from my very wet ponytail
  11. tiny drops of rain landing on my watch face
  12. cold wet legs shoulders fingers
  13.  car wheels whooshing by
  14. the river, a contemplative blue
  15. only one quick break from the unrelenting rain: running under the Lake Street bridge

I enjoyed running in the rain. Mostly because it was cooler but also because it was different and unusual. I felt a kinship with the 2 or 3 other runners I encountered, we the weirdos willing to wade through the water-soaked path in order to run outside.

sept 19/SWIM

swim: 2 miles/3600 yards
ywca pool

Pushing off from the wall for my first lap, swimming at the bottom, my face inches from the tiles, it hits me: the line down the center of the lane, the one that is 6 tiles wide, is blue. Last week in an entry, I think I called it black. And, as I wondered in this entry, there is a line marking off the deep end, but it’s blue not black. On the wall, at either end of the lane is a blue plus sign made out of tiles. Maybe next time I swim, I can try to count them. The rest of the tiles are white. Less white this week, than a few weeks ago, right after the pool had its annual cleaning. During the first mile, my goggles were slightly fogged up so I didn’t see as much but when I stopped and quickly cleaned them out with pool water, they were clear for the second mile. This (somewhat) clarity of vision got me thinking about a paragraph I read the other day in an essay about swimming entitled “Buoyancy.” William Spiegelman writes:

Swimming, unique among physical activities, diminishes and almost eliminates the sense of sight, our primary means of engagement with the physical world. You see the sides of the pool, the bottom, the lane markers; you get momentary glimpses of the world as you breathe or raise your head above the water as you turn, but by and large, vision is kept at a minimum.

I guess this is true for a pool, although much more true for open water swimming, but I felt like I was seeing as well as or better than I usually do outside of the water. The water was very clear and I could see the tiny bits of mildew or grout (or who knows what) in the corners of the tiles. I saw other people, floating, kicking, crawling. Brightly colored suits. Yellow fins. A red-shorted, looming lifeguard talking to a woman in a black suit. The timing clock ticking down seconds. A word about the lifeguard: she was fascinating. Walking up to a lane to swim, I overheard her recounting to another woman about all of her aches and pains and the chair yoga class she was taking (or leading?) at another fitness center. I don’t think I’ve ever seen an older lifeguard. Cool. Now I’m wondering if I’m confused, but I’m pretty sure she was the lifeguard.

sept 16/RUN

4 miles
74 degrees/77% humidity/dew point 66
mississippi river road path, north/south

Running at 7:30, already hot. Humid. Heavy. Thick. I’m ready for fall and over this hot weather. What do I remember? The sound of a runner, gradually approaching from behind. He said “good morning” as he passed. I noticed how one strap of his running belt was askew. Later, passing a group of 4 runners, one of them was talking so loudly that I could hear her for several minutes. I was glad I was going fast enough to get clear of her voice quickly. I heard the rowing coach down by the river, barking into his bullhorn. A biker’s wheel made a thwack thwack noise like something was caught in it. Close to the end of my run, entering the green tunnel below the road, at my favorite part of the path, it smelled like early fall: earthy. I didn’t see any roller skiers or pay attention to the river or dodge large groups of runners or marvel at red or orange or yellow leaves.

 

sept 14/BIKESWIM

bike: 8 miles
to the ywca pool

The hill up to the Sabo bridge was easier today. Could this be because I’m biking it more?

swim: 2 miles/3520 yards
ywca pool

Swam slightly less than on Wednesday, but I did it. 2 miles. I’m hoping to do this twice a week this fall/winter (at least). Might need to mix it up with some sets because an hour of lap swimming with so many flip turns gets a bit tedious. Today I put in a quick set of 4 X 100s on 1:45. Still not enough variety. But, even though it was tedious, I enjoyed doing it and felt good during and after. The main thing I remember about the swim is the beginning. Swimming underwater, my nose almost touching the white tiles, as I swam at the bottom for 3/4s of the first length. Swimming underwater without breathing until I reach the line marking the deep end has been my ritual at the y pool for several years now. Rereading this last line, I’m wondering: is there actually a black line at this point or does it just drop off? I’m doubting my memory now. I’ll have to check next time I swim. It always starts my swim.  I also remember how the choppiness of the water when all the lanes were full and the woman next to me was vigorously kicking. No waves making it hard to breathe, like on the open lake, but a gentle rocking. Oh, and at the beginning of the swim, when I was still getting used to breathing with my nose plug on, feeling the sting of chlorine trapped in my nose, burning. I thought about stopping to adjust the plug but I figured it would stop bugging after a few laps (it did). And the older woman in the brightly colored suit swimming next to me, her body halfway between horizontal and vertical, bobbing and kicking and hardly moving forward. Strange and fascinating and beautiful to watch. And the feeling of power and strength as I plowed through the water after increasing my speed for 4 100s.

Before ending this entry, decided to google, “swimming pool poetry”. Here’s the first thing that popped up:

Swimming Ool
BY KENN NESBITT

Swimming in the swimming pool
is where I like to “B,”
wearing underwater goggles
so that I can “C.”
Yesterday, before I swam,
I drank a cup of “T.”
Now the pool’s a “swimming ool”
because I took a “P.”

This poem reminds me of sign at a nearby Middle School with a pool. Someone removed all the ls so instead of “pool, pool lobby,” it says, “poo poo lobby.” It makes me laugh every time I see it.

sept 13/RUN

5.7 miles
the ford loop
70 degrees/15 mph wind with 22 mph gusts

For some reason, I’m liking the wind this month. Who knew? Last year, I hated running when it was really windy. I avoided it, if I could. But this September, two of my best runs have been when it was 15+ mph wind. The only time the wind was really bad was on the Lake Street bridge, a mile into my run. I had to hold onto my visor so it wouldn’t blow off into the river.

What are some memorable things about my run?

  • the windy bridge
  • the moments when I ran in the sun and wasn’t sheltered by the shade
  • peering down at the trees in the ravine as I ran up the river road path towards Summit. So pretty and mysterious and inviting. Looking at a map the other day, I discovered that this place has a name: Shadow Falls Park. I must hike there before the winter!
  • feeling okay as I ran up the hill right before Summit, imagining how I’ll feel when I run it in less than a month at the TC 10 mile race.
  • listening to my feet striking the paved path with a thud, then crunching on the dirt
  • watching the relaxed, strong stride of a runner as she passed me, finally passing another runner who was running on the dirt path
  • speeding up to pass a group of 6 or 7 runners
  • checking out the trees–no color yet–while running across the Ford bridge
  • noticing 3 police cars passing me on the river road, not all at once, but within 5 minutes of each other
  • feeling hot and flushed

I wasn’t listening to music. Even so, I don’t remember many distinctive sounds. No roller skiers. Only a few bikers. Some walkers with dogs or backpacks. Several runners. No unusual whooshing wind sounds or barks. I do remember noticing, as I started, how intense (and intent) the cars seemed to be as they rushed up the road. No rowers or quick snatches of conversation overhead as I passed walkers. One brief song blasting from a radio on a bike. No water sounds. Some water sparkle on the bridge as the sun created a path of light across the river. A few bright orange leaves hidden in the trees just above the Lake St/Marshall bridge.

sept 12/BIKESWIM

bike: 8 miles
to the ywca pool

Biking over the Sabo bridge on this beautiful day, I felt lucky to be pedaling hard on a bike and not trapped at the light in a car.

swim: 2 miles/3600 yards
ywca pool

I swam 2 miles in the pool. One mile without stopping, then a few quick breaks during the second mile. Felt pretty good although I’m tired now. The water was clear and, looping so many times (144 flip turns) and for so long (60 minutes), I was able to stare at the bottom of the pool. Pretty clean. Only two things that I could see. Even after all the time I looked at them, I still have no clue what they are. Fuzz? A barrette? Definitely not a bandaid or anything gross. What else do I remember about the swim? Mostly, I remember the other swimmers. All slower than me except for the one guy that started out faster for a lap or two then slowed way down. I like being the fastest swimmer in the pool. And I often am, especially at the time I go swimming: mid-morning. Usually the only other swimmers at this time are retired 60 or 70-somethings. I know that there are 70 year olds that can swim faster than me but they are never at the y pool when I’m there. I can’t quite decide if this desire to be the fastest is a good or a bad thing. Are the swimmers in the other lanes as competitive as me? Probably some of them are. I never actually try to race anyone else, I just like being faster.

sept 10/RUN

7 miles
bohemian flats turnaround
59 degrees 71% humidity

Ran down the Franklin hill, feeling good. Later, ran back up the hill too hard. Walked for a few minutes but still finished strong.

What do I remember from my run?
one roller skier holding both of their poles in one hand
two (or was it three?) police cars driving by
noticing how the parks crew was mowing down all the wildflowers on the side of the path
watching my shadow, checking out my form, trying to keep my shoulders even and relaxed
for a second, trying rhythmic breathing
listening to my feet strike the ground

sept 8/RUN

run: 2 miles
dogwood coffee run
65 degrees

A quick run with Scott to Dogwood Coffee. Our Saturday morning tradition. Lots of runners out. Some bikes. A team of rollerbladers, three with matching kits. According to Scott’s apple watch, we ran 2 miles. According to mine, 2.09.

In the afternoon, we took Delia the dog to Meeker Island. Pretty cool. We didn’t have a chance to walk it, but there’s a dog park here that we’ll have to check out some other day.