sept 25/RUN

5 miles
franklin loop
62 degrees
humidity: 80%

Not an easy run, but I kept going and was happy to be outside, above the gorge, for almost an hour. Some walking, more running. Was able to greet Dave, the Daily Walker. Noticed something sticking out in the middle of the river as I ran across the lake street bridge. People swimming across? No, tree branches stuck on the sandbar. The bridge steps were wet. Not rain, but a hose?

3 moments of color

1

Running across the Lake Street bridge, looking out through the railing, pink. Someone had spray-painted the railing with a thin line of bright pink, maybe bright green too, or was that my bad vision? Or maybe the bright sunlight doing strange things? Whatever it was, it looked magical.

2

Descending into the tunnel of trees from the north, a pool of reddish-orange light ahead of me. A wildfire sun? No, reflections from some orange paint on a nearby tree and red leaves on the ground.

3

Again on the lake street bridge: a very bright circle of light on the water, silver with streaks of orange, or an orange tone? or the idea of orange?

Found a powerful poem on Poetry Daily this morning, Schrödinger/ Katie Erbs.

excerpt from Schrödinger/ Katie Erbs

a little thought experiment
gone sideways an idea
trapped in ovum
the cedar chest the bride suffocates in
the refrigerator’s magnetic closure invented only
after one too many kids
got trapped inside leaving
little claw marks on the insides
of little coffins how I dreamed
of the little bell to ring
from inside the box
to let everyone know
I’m alive inside still

Just yesterday, I was reading a novel, Victorian Psycho, that mentioned these bells in coffins. I don’t think I had ever heard of them before.

I am convinced I can hear bells — the bells that chime from inside the safety coffins in the Hopefernon churchyard. ‘To ensure one isn’t buried alive,’ explained the Reverend when I first remarked upon them as a child. ‘They can only be rung from inside the coffin.’

‘But I hear them at night,’ I had told him, and the Reverend had sighed and shaken his face full of wrinkles . . . .

Victorian Psycho/ Virginia Feito

sept 24/RUN

2.5 miles
2 trails
70 degrees
humidity: 67%

Tried an experiment today. Instead of running early when it was much cooler, but very high humidity (97%), I waited and ran when it was much warmer, but with lower humidity. The hypothesis: the humidity is more of a problem than the temperature. Observations: fatigue, abundant sweat, slow legs, needing to walk sooner and for longer, not much fun. Tentative conclusion: heat affects me more than humidity. Of course, other factors to consider include: a different time of day, direct sun. My scientific method here might be half-baked, but I’m accepting the conclusion. No waiting until later to run! When in doubt, go earlier.

As (almost) always, I’m glad I went for a run by the gorge. A beautiful fall afternoon! A bright blue sky, rusting leaves, clear paths.

At the beginning of my run, I chanted the opening section of my Running Chant: River — flow flow flow / slow slow slow / flow flow flow / slow slow slow. The goal was to quiet my mind and fall into the rhythm of my feet. An idea: why not have a page filled with these opening words as part of my Girl Ghost Gorge collection?

3 visual options:

  1. a page with a line of flow then a line of the word slow
  2. 2 or 4 columns, one with flow, one with slow — you can read it vertically, down the lines, or horizontally, across the columns
  3. a page of flow flow flow / slow slow slow in very faint print, with only a few of the words in regular (or bold?) print

10 Things

  1. empty bench at the Horace Cleveland Overlook
  2. trickling water at the 44th street ravine
  3. the steady falling of water at the 42nd street ravine
  4. a friendly biker on the walking path below — hello! / hello
  5. 2 people at the folwell bench, one of them leaning over looking at their lap — were they holding a phone?
  6. graffiti — can’t remember color or what it said — on the limestone retaining wall
  7. a squeaking sound from across the river — a bike?
  8. someone squatting at the edge of the 38th street steps, talking on the phone
  9. a trace of color — yellow, pink — on the 38th street steps
  10. kids’ voices drifting over from across the road — recess

sept 23/RUN

4.1 miles
river road, north/south
61 degrees
humidity: 90% / dew point: 60

Yes, it was uncomfortably humid, and that’s all I’ll write about that. I memorized my rock chants before I left, then recited them as I ran. Here’s a snippet:

soft stone
shifts

hard stone
waits

sandstone
rubs

limestone
breaks

They worked pretty well, although it was hard to think of the words fast enough for my feet. Near the end of the run, I switched to some river words (3 1-syllable words):

drip drip drip
drop drop drop
stone stone stone

I was able to greet Dave, the Daily Walker — Morning Dave!, but forgot to greet the Welcoming Oaks. Saw some rowers climbing up the hill and leaving the rowing club. Noticed big bunches of purple wildflowers. Ran by the persistent crack that continues to settle and spread. Will they be able to fix it before the ground freezes? Wondered if the road closed ahead sign was because they were removing the safety fence they put in during their I-94 construction. Stopped at the top of some wooden steps leading down into the dark green of the Winchell Trail. Also stopped at the sliding bench to take a picture. A thought: what if I took a picture every week at this bench to track the slow and subtle changes?

from behind the sliding bench / 23 sept 2025

For future Sara, a brief recap: Jimmy Kimmel returns to his show tonight after being suspended/censored; Trump is claiming aspirin causes autism and that they’ve found a “cure” for it; and more leaves are turning yellow and red at the gorge.

sept 22/RUN

4.3 miles
minnehaha falls and back
61 degrees
humidity: 91% / dew point: 64

It rained last night, so everything was wet, even the air. Puddles, mud, slick leaves. Gushing sewer pipes, a roaring creek, fast-falling water.

I’m working on a series of chants for Girl Ghost Gorge. All triples. One for rock (a 2-syllable word/1 syllable word). One for river (3 1-syllable words). And one for air (1 3-syllable word).

During the first mile, I chanted for air: 

industry
convenience
resilience
persistence
underground
neighborhood

During the second mile, I chanted for rock:

paddle/wheel
roaring/creek
paving/stone

During the third mile, I chanted for water:

drip drip drip
drop drop drop
drip drop drip
drip drip drop

My plan for the chants is to use 1, 2, and 3 syllable words from my long poems for the chants. Right now I’m sorting them out.

10 Things

  1. wet red leaves scattered near the trail
  2. the smell of tar as I passed a park worker patching the trail (yay! they’re fixing the terrible spot on the bike path finally!)
  3. one woman to another: my ex-husband makes over a million dollars in his new job
  4. the yellow-vested park working, leaning and looking at his phone while he waited for the tar to be ready to smooth
  5. the squeak of a bike’s brakes
  6. bare branches poking out of the top of a tree
  7. the white froth from the falls
  8. 2 people sitting on the ledge of the bridge, their feet dangling over the falls
  9. a circle of bright water and sky, made by a break in the trees
  10. the smell of almost-cilantro from the tall grass surrounding the stone etched with Longfellow’s “Song of Hiawatha”

sept 21/RUNBIKE

2 miles
lake street bridge and back
70 degrees

Went out for my run just before noon. Too hot! Running north, nearing the lake street bridge, I heard some chanting and drums. People marching on the lake street bridge, heading to the capital. I just back from a weekend with my college friends. Friends for 29 years. Amazing.

bike: 5 miles
minnehaha park
71 degrees

Biked to Minnehaha Park and the falls in the early evening. At some point, a downpour. Luckily we were under the awning. The falls were roaring, A busker was playing saxophone. A tiny human in a blanket, looking like a jedi, was marching. Lots of dogs. A wonderful night at the falls. Biking homd, after the rain, everything wet. Fall!

sept 17/RUNBIKESWIM

4 miles
the monument and back
72 degrees
humidity: 80% / dew point: 64

More gnats, more heat, more sweat. Ran over the lake street bridge and up the summit hill to the Monument. Ran the first mile, did 2 minutes running/ 1 minute walking for the second mile, and mostly running, some walking for the rest. My right knee was sore because the kneecap slid out last night. I had to pop it back into place by going up and down the stairs. When it slides out it rubs the tendons or ligaments or something and they’re sore the next day. No big deal.

10 Things

  1. a bunch of kids sitting on the sidewalk outside of the church with the daycare — an adult called out to some other adult, I checked the website. They should be picking them up by 9
  2. a gnat flew into my eye — all the way, now the corner of my eye is sore
  3. no rowers on the river, only small waves
  4. peering over the side on the lake street bridge, checking out the sandbar. How far below the surface is it? How deep is the water around it?
  5. the faint sound of falling water at shadow falls
  6. a railing in front of a neighbor’s house, adorned with garlands and lights
  7. several wide cracks on the trail halfway down the summit hill, outlined in orange
  8. running up the summit hill, hearing a biker slowly approaching then creeping past me
  9. checking my watch during a walk break, the numbers blurred and difficult to see — a combination of my bad vision and feeling slightly dizzy/dazed from the heat
  10. the jingling of my house key in my pack, the thudding of my pack against my shorts

I don’t remember much from the run because it was hot and tiring. What did I think about?

Listened to kids, cars, random voices, and a dog barking running to the Monument. Put in my “The Wheeling Life” playlist on the way back. First song up, “Day by Day” from Godspell. In this song., the wheel is moving forward, progressing towards a better relationship with God. Wow — Jesus-rock was a thing in the 70s. The refrain for the song:

Day by day, day by day, oh dear Lord, three things I pray, to see thee more clearly, love thee more dearly, follow thee more nearly. Day by day.

bike: 7.5 miles
lake nokomis and back
79/75 degrees

Earlier today, Scott and I drove by lake nokomis and we noticed that the buoys were still up, so we decided to bike over to the lake in the late afternoon. If the blue algae was gone, I’d swim. So we did, and it was! The bike ride was great, even if it was windy. The thing I remember most about the bike was hearing the twack of the pickle ball at a pickle court on the way there, and a tennis court on the way back. Also: someone mowing their lawn and kids playing at the lake nokomis rec center playground.

swim: 2 loops
lake nokomis main beach
76 degrees

The water was clearer and warmer and slightly less choppy than the last time I was here. Still too many vines reaching up from the bottom. I had to swim farther out in the lake to avoid them. Saw at least 2 paddle boarders, a sailboat, a kayak. No fish, but seagulls. Heard geese honking from the other shore. Some adult was playing with a kid and calling out, Nestea Plunge. Yes! I can still picture the dude standing with his back to the pool, falling back into the water.

Noticed the mucked-up underside of a once red, now pinkish orange buoy. Was fascinated by the bubbles on the otherwise smooth surface of the water. Felt some thin vine tendrils encircling my wrist, some thicker and sharper vines brushing against my leg. I don’t remember seeing any planes, but I do remember some wispy clouds.

sept 16/RUN

4 miles
minnehaha falls and back
73 degrees
humidity: 84% / dew point: 64

Yes, another day of uncomfortably hot and humid conditions. Another morning with sweat and a flushed face. Also, something new: swarms of gnats. Getting in my eyes, my mouth, my nose, on my shirt. After the run, getting ready for a shower, I counted more than a dozen dead gnats on my chest. Yuck!

Do I regret going out for the run? Not one bit. Even with the heat and the gnats, it was beautiful — changing leaves, sparkling water, a bright blue sky, a gushing creek and a roaring falls. Plus, the gnats have inspired me. I want to write about them for Girl Ghost Gorge!

Tried something new for the second half of the run: run 2 minutes, walk 1. It worked out well. I think I’ll try this again. Maybe I’ll experiment with the amounts: 3 minutes of runner/1 minute of walking or 2 minutes of running/30 seconds of walking?

For the first time in a while, I saw the regular, Mr. Santa Claus. We greeted each other with a wave.

gnats Returning to the gnats, I’ve been thinking about them more lately because of Endi Bogue Hartigan and her mention of them in her poem, “Running Sentences,” especially these lines:

c A chorus sings in swarms of gnats.

b First the body on the path, but first the body as circumference,

a First the cloud of gnats first the movement through the cloud

collective noun: a cloud of gnats / a swarm of gnats / a horde of gnats / a rabble of gnats

sept 16/RUN

3.5 miles
locks and dam no 1
72 degrees
humidity: 84% / dew point: 69

Overcast today. Everything dark, everything gray and deep green. A few sprinkles at the start. On my warm-up walk, I heard The Clash’s “Should I Stay or Should I Go” coming from the corner where some workers were making the sidewalk more accessible. Later at the river, I heard some more music blasting out of a bike speaker that I recognized but can’t remember the name of now.

The first almost 2 miles of the run was okay, then it got hard, then I locked in and zoned out and it was no longer hard or easy, it just was.

10 Things

  1. passing an entrance to the Oak Savanna: a deep, dark, green hole
  2. a yellowish-orangish tree
  3. slashes of red on the side of the path, waist-high
  4. more orange leaves scattered in the trees
  5. dozens of small red leaves on the side of the trail
  6. thwack thwack acorns falling
  7. someone took down the sign alerting people to a conservation area and asking them to stay on the paved trail
  8. one car parked at the bottom of the locks and dam no 1 hill, window slightly open, low music playing, the smell of cigarette smoke
  9. bright headlights cutting through the gray sky
  10. the ford bridge reflected in the water looking like a window or a portal
ford bridge window / 16 sept 2025

Vuelta update: Yesterday, the final stage of the Vuelta was shut down when it entered Madrid. Protesters had occupied the course and pulled down all the signs/flags, toppled the barricades. There was no violence, just chanting and holding up signs that said, in Spanish, Down with the State of Israel. There was a large police presence that was attempting to manage the crowd, but they weren’t using force or rubber bullets or tear gas. Very different from what happened here in Minneapolis in 2020.

Today’s thoughts about my Girl Ghost Gorge project:

1 rituals. What rituals do I do during my run?

  • greet the Welcoming Oaks
  • greet the Regulars
  • listen for roller skiers and rowers and water dropping out of the sewer pipe
  • track the changing of the leaves, especially in the floodplain forest
  • make note of whether or not the benches are empty
  • notice the river
  • stop at the sliding bench or at the bench above the edge of the world
  • stop in the flats or at the bottom of the locks and dam no 1 to study the river surface
  • count the stones stacked on the ancient boulder

2 You Are Here: Trestle: In this poem, I’d like to include something about how it’s rarely used for trains. Now it holds electric blue yarn bombs and ghost bikes and flowers for June

sept 14/RUN

4.1 miles
river road north/south
70 degrees
humidity: 88% / dew point: 68

Ugh! Uncomfortably warm again today. A flushed face and dripping ponytail. Was able to greet 2 regulars: Dave, the Daily Walker and Mr. Morning! Admired sparkles on the water, heard the coxswain from below, smelled the sourness of the sewer. I tried to do my “beat” experiment:

mile 1: triple berry chants strawberry/raspberry/blueberry
mile 2: listen to metronome at 175
mile 3: listen to music

I went too fast with the triple berries, then didn’t have the metronome turned up enough to feel the beat. By the time I got to mile 3, I was overheating. After that, it was difficult to run for that long. Lots of walking. I’ll have to try this experiment again when it is much cooler.

For the Girl Ghost Gorge collection I’m working on, I’ve decided to add some You Are Here poems: poems that locate me/the reader in one particular (and meaningful to me) location above or with or among the gorge.

possible you are here locations

  1. the trestle
  2. folwell bench
  3. sliding bench
  4. the edge of the world
  5. double bridge
  6. ancient boulder with stacked stones
  7. franklin hill
  8. turkey hollow
  9. 44th street ravine
  10. 42nd street ravine
  11. 35th street ravine
  12. welcoming oaks

sept 13/RUN

3.25 miles
locks and dam no 1 and back
73 degrees
humidity: 67

Typical September weather in Minneapolis: cool, then hot, then hotter. I went out for my run late because I was watching Vingegaard finally show some panache on the final, ridiculously steep, climb of the Vuelta. Perhaps the most memorable thing about the Vuelta this year were the pro-Palestinian protesters. They disrupted several of the stages, resulting in the shortening of at least 2 of them, including the individual time trial. Mostly they peacefully (I think) occupied the finish line or lined the course with Palestinian flags. A few groups were more disruptive: cutting down a tree to block the road, running down from a hill and almost hitting some of the riders, and today, blocking the road and (possibly?) tackling one of the riders. I support the protesters and their movement, even as I disagree with some of their tactics that put the riders at risk.

10 Things

  1. 2 runners ahead of me, one in an orange vest. when I passed them, I overheard one say to the other, only 1.3 miles left. we can do it.
  2. same runners, later, walking, one to the other: you go ahead, I’m walking the rest
  3. the wheels of a roller skier, sounding rickety and rusted — or was it the uneven asphalt?
  4. leaves floating in the wind, looking like flying birds
  5. pale blue water below
  6. encountering a guy with a dog: excuse me / oh — you scared me, you’re quiet / I’m sorry / no, that’s a good thing I thought: me, the running ninja
  7. a coxswain’s voice below — rowers!
  8. a small peloton on the road
  9. an organized run, probably a 20 miler for the upcoming marathon — participants were wearing orange vests
  10. the tree that was blocking most of the winchell trail has finally been moved

It was tough out there. I chanted a reminder in triples: in the heat/time on feet. Because it’s so hot, I’m not worrying about how slow I’m going, or how much of it I’m walking instead of running. It’s all about just getting out there and spending time moving.

Just discovered this book! I’m hoping I can find it in a library somewhere:

Out the front door, across the street, down the hill, and into Van Cortlandt Park in the Bronx. This is how Ben Ratliff’s runs started most days of the week for about a decade. Sometimes listening to music, not always. Then, at the beginning of the pandemic, he began taking notes about what he listened to. He wondered if a body in motion, his body, was helping him to listen better to the motion in music.

Run the Song: Writing About Running About Listening/ Ben Ratliff