Tag: no headphones

feb 13/4 MILES

13 degrees/feels like 5
10% snow-covered
mississippi river road path, south/minneahaha falls/north

Slightly warmer. Gray. Damp. Occasional gusts of wind. Even though I have a cold, I’m glad I ran outside this morning. Ran around the falls. Still frozen. Thick snow on the creek bank. Just as I was wondering if minnehaha creek was frozen over, I noticed some slushy spots on the surface. Tomorrow it’s supposed to get a lot warmer–over 40 degrees. How much of a melty mess will it be?

feb 6/3.1 MILES

65 degrees
ywca track

Ran inside at the track. More crowded than I expected for 2pm on a Tuesday. I guess you could call what I did a tempo run. A little faster but not too fast. I’m writing this the day after the run, so I don’t remember much. Not too many runners, many more walkers. Saw a walker who seemed to be limping wearing thick black socks. He made it around the track for a few laps before sitting down on a chair. Also passed a woman using a walker. Didn’t recognize anyone else that I’ve seen before. No one pulling a sled or crawling. Did see someone using the long ropes–the ones that you grab in your hands and shake, making them look almost like snakes slithering or a wave rushing away from you. What are those called? Looked them up–battle ropes.

feb 4/1.5 MILES

65 degrees
ywca track

Another Sunday run at the track. The guy who runs at a lean was there, running fast and running with his head tilted slightly to the right. Saw an older women–in her 70s? 80s?–running around the track, looking strong even as she was hunched forward. Also saw an older guy–I’d guess he was in the his 70s too–running. Earlier in the day, driving on the river road, saw the Daily Walker and thought about running outside instead of the track, but it was cold and I wanted to go to the hot tub with Scott, so I didn’t.

jan 31/3.75 MILES

26 degrees
99% snow-covered
mississippi river road path, north/south

Woke up in this morning, opened the door and was completely shocked to see a fresh dusting of snow. About an inch. I shouldn’t be surprised, I guess, but I was. This dusting is the annoying kind, hiding the icy patches that have lingered on the sidewalk after the big warm-up/melt last week. Yuck. It was a bit treacherous walking to the river, but once I started running on the path it was fine. I had a good run. Listened to my playlist and enjoyed the warmth of the sun. I continue to run negative splits without trying.

For my poetry class this week, I had to write a haiku/haikus. I decided to create some about the condition on the running path:

An ice-covered path
is slick but not slippery
when you run, not walk.

Dry snow on a path
makes a satisfying snap
under running feet.

The wet snow muffles
my striking feet as I run
above the river.

An inch of powder
conceals ice chunks and slick spots.
I run cautiously.

Ice doesn’t sparkle.
It taunts and teases and hides
under the new snow.

Warmer air. Melting
snow. Paths with puddles soak socks
before refreezing.

Sunny. A clear path
and a clear mind allow me
to have a great run.

Running through wet snow
is like running on warm sand
except much colder.

jan 30/1.8 MILES

65 degrees
ywca track
+ 1250 yard swim

Swam in the pool before running. Felt pretty good. I like swimming outside in the lake much better. The air is nicer and the swim is more interesting. Plus, less flip turns and less opportunity to stop. Once you start swimming across the lake, you have to keep going. Even so, this swim was fine. Ran almost 2 miles on the track after the swim. That felt good too. I’m definitely running faster than last year, but I wasn’t paying attention to my pace. Found myself trying to keep an even distance behind a runner ahead of me who was going at a fast (for me) pace. His right arm moved back and forth awkwardly with each step and his whole head leaned slightly to the right. Does he know this happens? I wonder how I look to others as I run? Scott told me I look a bit stiff–almost like a machine. Do either of my legs swing out awkwardly? Are my feet in line? My head straight? Someday, I’ll have to get some video of myself running.

jan 28/1.5 MILES

65 degrees
ywca track
+ 500 yard swim

A short run and a shorter swim. Saw several cute kids running–or was it trotting?–with an adult. And a young boy–maybe 12?–running with his dad. An older man–guessing he was around 70–running slowly and steadily and for at least an hour. He had on a marathon shirt and you could tell he was a serious long distance runner. I’d love to be running like that when I’m 70. Saw a 30-something guy who would walk a lap and then sprint two-thirds of a lap. I think I saw him at the track last week too. Wonder if he ever runs straight without stopping. Soccer games were going on below the elevated track, but I didn’t really pay attention to them. My watch seemed off–7 laps to make a mile, not the usual 6. Since the indoor distance is based on number of steps, I must have longer strides at the track and more foot strikes outside.

jan 27/5 MILES

33 degrees
franklin hill turn around

A good run. I went faster than I usually do and ran the whole thing without stopping–even the Franklin hill. Encountered a lot of puddles, wet spots, slick spots, messy spots. My socks and shoes didn’t get soaked but they did get wet. A few times I ended up running straight through some deep puddles. Yuck! I do not like when it gets warm in winter and the snow melts onto the sidewalk, making it wet during the day and icy at night. But, it didn’t bother me too much. Still had a great run, listening to my headphones and getting pumped up by Beck’s “I’m so Free.”

words to describe a path that is mostly clear but still slightly covered with puddles and patches of ice and an occasional chunk of snow:

soppy gloppy goopy slick icy thawing melting defrosting loose/loosening/looser softening messy soaked saturated soggy slushy slippery

jan 24/4 MILES

23 degrees
85-90% snow-covered
mississippi river road path north/south

A little colder today. The path was slicker and, in some places, thicker. The snow was heavy and hard to trudge through. Both yesterday and today, my left thigh got tight around the third mile and I stopped to walk for about a minute to loosen it up. I’m hoping it’s not a problem but just a reminder that I’m running on a loose, slippery path that forces my legs to work harder. Not too much wind or sun. I listened to my playlist–mostly because I added Beck’s song, “I’m So Free” from his new album. So good. Too bad it was the first song that came up on my shuffle–while I was still walking and warming up. I’d like to listen to it in the middle of a run.

jan 21/5.75 MILES

36 degrees
25% snow-covered
the franklin loop

Wet air. Icy paths. Not a bad run. Very calm. A little tougher than the last run outside. My left hamstring hurt a little 4 miles in, so I stopped to walk for 30 seconds or so. Started running again right as I encountered the daily walker. Actually did 5.25 outside and then, because Scott wanted to run at the y in the afternoon, I tagged a long and did another 1/2 mile there. I’m writing this hours after my run so I’m probably forgetting a lot of what happened. One thing I do remember: running across the Franklin bridge and noticing the tree line along the river. Not sure how, but it was glowing. The sun was illuminating it from somewhere. One other image: at the y, a woman was stretching in the corner of the track right next to the window. She was extremely flexible. At one point, she looked like an alien or a spider as she did a strange squat with her legs open and her knees in line with her torso. After that she went down into the splits and stayed in that position for a few minutes.

jan 19/4.6 MILES

33 degrees
75% snow-covered
franklin hill turn around

Yesterday’s warm temperatures melted some of the snow and ice which turned back into super slick and slippery ice this morning. It looked scary but it wasn’t that bad. I had a decent run. I managed to run down and up the Franklin hill without stopping. The gorge was beautiful. So open and light and still. Yesterday I took Delia the dog down on the Winchell trail below the path. The sun was barely above the path making the walkers and runners on it glow. Speaking of the sun, this morning as I got up off the couch after drinking my coffee to wake my daughter I opened the curtains and was greeted by one of the most beautiful sunrises that I’ve seen in years. Neon orange and pink. Within 10 minutes it was gone and I wondered how many other sunrises I had missed without even knowing it. This illuminating moment came only minutes after I wrote a few words about the difficulty of getting older and finding it harder to wake up:

early morning sitting
on the couch waiting
to wake up
I hear noises
the staticky hum of my son’s computer
the roar of a distant plane
the traffic a mile away
the resigned sigh of my dog sleeping
next to me but wanting
to be chased
through the downstairs
the heat kicks in
a car drives by
I sip my coffee
and lose my words
and my will
to move
and I wonder—
is this what it means to grow old?
to wake up every morning and really have to work at
wanting to do anything but go back to sleep or
sit and stare blankly at the wall as the light
slowly gradually almost imperceptibly
enters the room?

When I saw the sunrise, I realized that I would never have appreciated its beauty when I was younger. So maybe appreciating a sunrise is also what it means to get older, which sounds cliché, but this morning it was true for me and it mattered to make note of it.

jan 16/4 MILES

65 degrees
ywca track

Went to the track again today because it was cold and because I wanted to try out a speed workout. My first ever, I think. Here’s what I did:

1 mile, easy run
1 mile, 7:55 pace
easy walk, 4 minutes
2 x 1/2 mile, 7:50 pace
easy walk, 2 minutes after each one
2 x 1/4 mile, 7:45 pace
easy walk, 30 seconds after each one
1/2 mile, easy run

It went well and was much more interesting than just running 24 laps around the track. I think I’ll mix it in once every couple of weeks. Too many speed workouts can be bad for training and writing/thinking–I didn’t really think about anything else but my pace and how many laps I still needed to run.

What did it feel like to run faster?

lighter, freer, bouncier, more breeze, less breath, hotter face, less distractions, more focus, more fixation on time pace effort, less awareness of others except for when I wondered what they thought about me running by them so fast or at least so much faster than them

Listened to my playlist and had a strange combination of effort + song: during one of my sprints, “The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald” came on. I added this to a playlist for longer runs and didn’t realize it was on the one I was listening to. Maybe I should put together a speed playlist?

jan 14/2.5 MILES

65 degrees
ywca track

Not much to write about this run. Felt fine. Runs at the track tend to be more boring and less inspiring. Listened to my running playlist and tried to run a little faster. How to summarize the run?

lune

slick snow cold
outside inside warm
dry boring

acrostic

Trying to
Remember what lap I’m on is
Always a struggle–why is
Counting so hard? Why can’t I ever
Keep track?

Tanka

Running in circles
around the track—-more effort
than inspiration
never quite getting anywhere
but back to where you just were.

jan 10/5.1 MILES

38 degrees
10% snow-covered
franklin loop

Another warm and windy day. Another run on the Franklin loop. The path is almost clear but that will change tomorrow when it snows again. Since they don’t clear the east side of the river path quite as well, I’m not sure how long it will be before I can run this loop again. Listened to my playlist and had a good run. Could tell I was getting faster and that my last mile was my fastest. It’s a very gray, gloomy day. What did I think about? I really can’t remember. Didn’t worry about anything. Didn’t experience doubts about whether I could keep running. Didn’t struggle with trying to find the right words or ideas for my poems. Didn’t feel guilt about something I’m supposed to do or something that I already did. Just ran and felt the wind in my face, at my back, rush past my ears. Avoided puddles and ice patches. And tried to keep my breathing steady.

jan 7/6 MILES

26 degrees
75% snow-covered
mississippi river road north/south

Hooray for warmer weather! Still below freezing but almost 30 degrees warmer than the last time I ran outside on Wednesday. Felt good, except for the Franklin hill. Ugh! Made it most of the way up but then decided to walk the last bit. Good decision because the last two miles felt great, especially mile 6. Looked at my favorite part of the gorge and marveled at its beauty. Dark brown branches framing the light blue river and white forest floor. I’d like to incorporate that image–or the suggestion of that image–in a redesign of this blog.

the path, some descriptions

The path was clear for big stretches then completely covered for others. With the slightly warmer temperature, when the path was covered it was both slick and wet. Snow that had been packed tight a few days ago was loose and gloppy and hard to slog through. I like snow that makes a satisfying crunch or crack when I run over it. This snow was quiet, dull, hard to run on.

jan 4/3 MILES

65 degrees
ywca track

Scott was going to the y this morning so I decided to join him. We didn’t run together, just at the same time. It’s nice to run inside occasionally. Not crowded and much warmer than outside–almost 70 degrees warmer. Really can’t remember what I thought about while I was running. Oh–at one point I noticed the sun rising up and coming through the windows. A peachy, orangy, yellowy glow. Someone was pulling a sled off in the corner. At least two other people were crawling using their fingers and toes. None of this looked fun. A class was running on the other track below me. Listened to a song my Justin Bieber and was bothered because he sang “serious” when he should have sang “seriously.” Wondered if he knew and maybe just didn’t care because he wanted to rhyme it with delirious.

jan 3/3 MILES

2 degrees/feels like -11
100% snow-covered
mississippi river road north/south

Had a hideous song from the 80s–an over-wrought duet–stuck in my head so I wore headphones today. Didn’t feel cold at all. Wore two pairs of gloves again but by the second mile barely had one pair on. Love running outside in the cold! After all of my talk about winter running, it’s nice to know that I wasn’t romanticizing it. I actually do like the cold, even when it feels like -11 or -20.

note: Reading about the hideous song on jan 3, 2024, I instantly remembered what song it was and the terrible lyrics started happening in my head. Wow.

another note:: 2 year later now, in 2026, and it happened again. I heard the song in my head! Before reading any further, I went into this entry to add that I had heard it, only to discover that I had written this already, in 2024. Again, wow.

cold words

frigid
freezing
hyperborean (greek/living in far north, beyond north wind)
frosty
frozen
arctic
rimy (covered with frost)
algific (as in algific talus slope –an ecosystem found in driftless area)
frigorific
brumal (of or relating to winter)

dec 30/2 MILES

65 degrees
ywca track

-14, feels like -35 outside? No thanks. Even I have my winter running limits. Went to the YWCA track instead—my third track this week—and achieved my goal for the year: 950 miles. Originally the goal was the marathon. Then, when I was injured it became 1000 miles. But because I couldn’t run for 2 months, that goal was too ambitious. So I settled for 950 miles. Still a big accomplishment and probably more than I’ve run in a year before. And really it was 950 miles in 10 months.

Even as I love winter running, I’m getting excited about summer swimming. Found out yesterday that there will (finally) be an open swim race at Lake Nokomis this summer! So awesome. I’m hoping to write more about swimming in the lake this summer.

dec 22/4.2 MILES

19 degrees
5% snow-covered
mississippi river road north/south

What a great run! Crisp cold air. A clear path. Legs and lungs that feel strong. I listened to my playlist, running the final hill with “Hot for Teacher,” which was awesome.

I felt my feet rhythmically striking the path. I imagined that they resembled the triathlete Flora Duffy’s graceful running feet that I watched in a video yesterday, even as I knew they didn’t.

 

dec 17/3 MILES

65 degrees
ywca track

My first time running at the track since last spring. Listened to my little iPod with an old running playlist and tried to stay relaxed. Running inside is not nearly as meaningful as running outside, but it’s fine. Better than not running at all. Not too many people–more walkers than runners. And after the run–the hot tub!

dec 14/4 MILES

20 degrees
90% snow covered
mississippi river road path, north/south

Didn’t wake up planning to run this morning but when I took the dog for a walk and felt how calm and clear it was outside, I decided I better go. Who knows what it will be like tomorrow morning? I’m glad I did. Not too cold. Not too windy. Not too icy. After the turn around on my way back south, it started to snow. Medium sized flakes that got trapped in my eyelashes. More pretty than annoying. Listened to my playlist. Looked at the river. Marveled at how the snow just keeps coming, slow and steady. A few flakes at a time. Adding up to white everywhere. No green grass until the spring.

Last Tuesday, when the snow first stayed on the ground, I wrote a brief poem:

It happened.
Not last night but
the night before.
The snow came to stay
setting up camp
on the lawn
until the spring.
Goodbye green grass!
Goodbye bare forest floor!
I’ll see you in March.

nov 29/4.15 MILES

31 degrees
mississippi river road path south/minnehaha falls/mississippi river road path north

Listened to my playlist today as I ran south to the falls. Not too windy, not too cold. As I ran below the road at the part of the trail where the running and biking paths each have their own bridges I wondered when the snow would arrive, forcing me to run on the biking path and, when it got really bad, avoid running this direction altogether. In past years, the snow sticks around in early December–and doesn’t leave until March or April. It’s difficult for Minneapolis Parks to clear this part of the trail because it’s narrow–too wide for the plow.

Had a brief runner’s high at the end of mile 3. Felt momentarily invincible and euphoric. My head tingled and I could feel my smile slowly growing and spreading across my face, almost like the grinch when he realizes how to destroy Christmas, except my smile was from joy not wickedness.

nov 13/5.4 MILES

33 degrees
franklin hill turn around

Ran the hill again today. Ran down all of it and up most of it. Then walked for a few minutes to recover. Felt pretty good. Listened to music because I felt like I needed it but now I wonder if it wouldn’t have been better to try running without headphones. Beautiful light this morning, especially filtered through the bare trees and across the gorge. The muted tans and browns and golds make me happy. My shadow led me today and I enjoyed watching her run. Sometimes I marveled at her form, other times I imagined she was my mom. She followed me on the way back, after I had warmed up and was feeling strong. Every so often, when I turned back to see if anyone was coming, I noticed her.

nov 10/5 MILES

15 degrees/feels like 3 degrees
mississippi river road path, south/minnehaha falls/mississippi river road path, north

5 miles without stopping! 15 degrees, felt like 3! Wow. I didn’t even notice the 15 mph wind. I love running in the cold. No snow or ice, just dead leaves. Running along the mississippi towards the falls, I had some amazing views of the gorge and the river. No leaves in the way today. Color palette: gray, brown, grayish blue, white, burnished gold, dark green. The falls were falling in a big gush, surrounded by ice. I wonder when the water will freeze? November 10 is early to be so cold for so long. It’s already snowed 2 or 3 times and it’s been below freezing for days now.

Before running, started working on a poem about my running shoes. It needs some work:

Running Shoes

Cheap Dependable Sauconys
pronounced sock-a-knee
not sah cone ee or saw co knee or nike
thirty nine ninety nine
if you find them on sale
which I always do
online
Been wearing them for 6 years
6 different versions
6 different colors
white and gray then white and green
hot pink
bright orange
teal
now bright blue with orange swishes
or stripes or checks or whatever
you want to call them
they’re my bottom of the line basics
getting the job done
working with my wide feet
even when I run too fast
or too long
or on an uneven path.

nov 8/4 MILES

31 degrees
mississippi river road path, north

A great run with negative splits again. I love the colder air. It was sunny and a bit windy. Don’t remember too much. Saw only one dog. Very few bikers. No cross country skiers on skates. Less than 5 runners. Encountered one runner twice, going the opposite direction. Almost twisted my ankle on an uneven bit of the path. Sporadically practiced rhythmic breathing, in 3, out 2. Listened to headphones. Heard the Violent Femmes’ singing “Add it Up” and finally realized, after listening to this song for almost 30 years, that the lead singer says “When I take a bow and say good night.” Of course! This makes more sense than what I thought it was: “When I think about it and say goodnight.”

nov 4/3 MILES

37 degrees
humidity: 91%
mississippi river road path, north

Humid again. Didn’t bother me as much this time. Kept up my plan of doing each mile faster than the last. Listened to music. What do I remember from my run? Running behind someone dressed all in black. I followed him as he stayed on the bike path instead of traveling below the road on the part of the path that travels right above the gorge because I worried that it might be too slippery. Slowly creeping up on and then passing another runner dressed in black pants and white jacket.  Wondering how far ahead of her I was getting. Encountering her again, once I had turned around at the greenway trail. Feeling mostly good with only a few fleeting flashes of doubt and desire to stop.

Kept working on my sonnet assignment when I got back home. Came up with 2 versions. Don’t quite like either.

Attention

is the beginning of devotion
devotion, the beginning of prayer
prayer, undertaken while in motion
motion, gliding in and through outside air
a prayer that is given with lungs and feet
inspiring trees and absorbing the ground
a letting go to a steady beat
desiring nothing but to hear the sound
of time slowly dripping like the drops of sweat
that fall from my face and sit on my skin
cooling me down as they evaporate
counter-clockwise time, moving out, not in
I listen and imagine I can hear
my Self—a slow steady release into air.

Attention

is the beginning of devotion
devotion, the beginning of prayer
prayer, undertaken while in motion
motion, gliding in and through outside air
a prayer that is given with lungs and feet
inspiring trees and absorbing the ground
a letting go to a steady beat
desiring nothing but to look around
and count the leaves or catch a fleeting glimpse
of river, near the stand of mesic oaks
and to witness time as it slowly drips
like the sweat off my face that slowly soaks
my shirt and evaporates from my skin
my sense of Self moving out and not in.

nov 1/3 MILES

33 degrees
mississippi river road path, north

It’s getting colder. I love it! I run so much better in the cold air. As I ran by them, I tried looking a little longer at the bare trees, the gorge slope, the floodplain forest floor and the river. Turned around at the railroad trestle. Before reaching it, realized that I wasn’t feeling the wind so I knew when I turned around that I would. And I did. But it wasn’t too bad. Encountered a woman who might have been talking to me. Not sure if she was or what she said; I had my headphones on. Listening to Sia, Loverboy, Huey Lewis and the News, Pat Benatar, Violent Femmes, Justin Bieber, Cee Lo Green and Adele. Right before running back under the Lake Street bridge noticed two trees, one was a rusty red, the other a brilliant gold.

Later, walking through the neighborhood, I marveled at the beauty of bare branches. Some trees, maybe maples, need their limbs hidden by leaves, but not oaks. Such forms! Some graceful, stretching up and out everywhere. Others awkward, gnarled and twisted toward the sky, the ground, the other side of the sidewalk. All of them interesting, demanding my attention. How do I look, I wonder, to anyone else when I stop and stare, craning my neck to take in every limb?

oct 30/3.85 MILES

37 degrees
wind: 16 mph
mississippi river road path, north

Ran for 35 minutes and 3.85 miles without stopping. Negative split each mile. My knee was sore for the first half, but it mostly felt okay. It was windy and cool with some light drizzle/snow. Checked on the progress of the leaves on my favorite part of the gorge: all gone. Now I can see the slope down to the forest floor and the Mississippi.

Thinking again about routine, rituals and habits and what is/isn’t sacred about running and preparing for running. Wrote a poem in homage to Craig Arnold’s Mediation on a Grapefruit. Towards the end of the poem he writes:

a discipline
precisely pointless       a devout
involvement of the hands and senses
a pause     a little emptiness

My homage is about coffee brewing, an essential part of my pre-race routine/ritual. note: I can’t figure out how to the spacing here. It’s supposed to have more, like Arnold’s poem.

Meditation on the Smell of Coffee Brewing

To wake when nothing is possible
before the unexpected joys of the day
have saved me
To come to the kitchen
and pull out a thin paper basket
before breakfast
To open the metal tin lid sounding
like cymbals being lightly struck
by a drum stick
metallic and sharp as a cold winter morning
To tip
each rich brown scoop into the filter
not that carefully sometimes spilling
several darkly fragrant grounds
To pour each cup of water
into a cheap black coffee maker
the water settling until the whole
carafe is emptied
and only then to breathe and to brew
who knew
this habit
seemingly not the point a repeated
performance ending with the nose
a deep inhale with no substance

each morning harder to live within
each morning harder to live without

and

Meditation on a running shoe

To wake when nothing is possible
before my morning run
has saved me
To go to the front room
and find my electric blue wings
after breakfast
To take them out of the shoe rack
light and featherless        with orange swishes
swirling on the side
vibrant and zesty as citrus
To slide
each foot in, first right then left
so mindfully     without making
my socks bunch up.
To tie each lace
into big, loopy knots
then tuck the loops    until the whole
shoelace is protected
and only then to run
more than fun
a ritual
reverently practical       a sacred
preparation for the body and spirit
a moment      a little attention

each morning more necessary to live within
each morning more impossible to live without

oct 25/3.3 MILES

41 degrees
mississippi river road path, north

My first day of running non-stop for 30 minutes! Not too bad, but I can tell that I need some more training before I’m back to my pre-injury endurance. Ran with headphones to forget about difficult mornings with middle-schoolers so I didn’t pay attention to much around me. I did notice that the leaves on the welcoming oaks are all gone and that I can see all the way to the river–sparkling in the sun–near the floodplain forest. Late fall is my favorite time of year. Seeing St. Paul on the other side of the river. Almost bare branches mixed with neon orange. The woods with its bones beginning to show. Colder air. Snow coming soon. Winter running!

oct 22/3.35 MILES

50 degrees
mississippi river road path, north

My last recovery run combining walking and running. Next week, I start running for 30 minutes without stopping! The light this morning was really cool. The entire neighborhood glowed with orange and gold and red. We are just past peak color season. I didn’t look down to check the progress of the leaves on my favorite part of the gorge because I was too busy making sure that I didn’t slip on the wet leaves or on an acorn shell hidden under them. Realized after finishing my run, while I was walking back home, that I had put my running pants on inside out. Oh well.

Here are a lune, a tanka and a haiku about my run today:

a city block
illuminated:
red gold orange.

Red, gold and orange leaves are so pretty on a tree but not on the path; they conceal debris that lies in wait, ready to twist knees.

blue pants, inside out
only noticed at the end
much too late to care.

oct 13/2.9 MILES

51 degrees
mississippi river road path, north

The end of week 2 out of 4 for my injury recovery plan. Halfway done. I end this plan with a 5k race right before Halloween. Today I walked 2 minutes and ran 3, six times. More running than walking! Decided to listen to my playlist instead of the wind. I don’t remember much about my running except for that it wasn’t too bad. I almost made it to the railroad trestle at the greenway but not quite. I briefly considered just running the extra 15 seconds to reach it, but then decided not to push it. I’ll make it there and probably much farther on Monday when I run 3.5 minutes and walk 1.5.

The light this morning was strange. At first, a bright sunny beaut of a morning. All glowing trees and crisp autumn air. Then, when I wasn’t paying attention, the sun left. It was much darker. Gray instead of blue. Then, suddenly, it was bright again. This happened several times. Bright blue. Dull gray. On repeat.

 

 

oct 6/2.3 MILES

71 degrees
mississippi river road path, north

Week one of returning to running complete! Today I walked 3.5 minutes/ran 1.5 minutes 6 times. I ran longer and a little faster. And it felt okay. Now, hours later, my knee still feels fine. Very exciting!

The trees just above the gorge are turning from lime green to lemon yellow–or is it more of a banana yellow? Whatever it is, it’s definitely not golden or fiery red or orange. The other day, I started thinking about how much of the poetry I’ve read about fall, which is not that much, talks about red leaves or gold/yellow ones, but rarely orange. Why is that?

For the Orange Leaves that have been Overlooked

I’ve read many lines
about fiery red leaves
and glowing golden ones
but where is the poetry for leaves that are orange?
Is it because of the sound?
Red has a punch
yellow is mellow
and gold is bright, brassy, bold!
But orange just splats on the page,
plops off the tongue.
Maybe we should talk about
leaves of vermillion
or leaves of persimmon
or marmalade leaves
or leaves that glow like a neon crayon?

oct 4/2.15 MILES

48 degrees
mississippi river road path, north

Sunny. Crisp. Cool. Great fall weather for running! This morning I ran a little more, walked a little less. 4 minutes of walking, 1 minute of running, six times. Felt okay. I listened to my playlist and didn’t pay attention to much other than the time, making sure I didn’t miss my minute of running or run too much.

Here’s what I remember:

  • Walking under the oak? trees that line the path between the 36th and 35th street parking lots. Their gnarled branches stretching horizontally.
  • Encountering the daily walker and wondering if he recognized me after my 2 month absence.
  • Two runners passing me while I was walking, one right before the lake street bridge, one just above the floodplain forest, on my favorite part of the path, the part where I always check the progress of the leaves. Both had graceful, relaxed gaits.
  • Seeing one of those runners run off the path onto the grass to avoid two path-hogging walkers. Wondering if my last running minute would start soon and then imaging running up behind the walkers, stepping off onto the grass, and displacing my kneecap again.
  • Seeing lots of yellow trees, a few red, a few orange.
  • Not encountering any dogs and very few walkers.

I’m working on a collage of writings about “the body electric” that might include an homage (of sorts) poem to the final part of Walt Whitman’s “I sing the body electric” from Leaves of Grass. Here’s what I have so far:

The Parts and Poems of the Body

I. The Knee

Bones, joints, cartilage, ligaments, tendons, muscles,
fibrous thickenings and fluid-filed capsules and sacs
make locomotion possible.

The femur, patella and tibia move
The fibula bears weight.

The tibiofemoral joint bends
the patellofemoral joint grooves
the rings of Meniscus absorb
the smooth white tissue of the articular cartilage transfers
loads of tremendous force.

The cruciate ligaments cross over each other
the collateral ligaments support
both link femur to tibia
the quadriceps tendon attaches
the quad muscles to the patella.

The quads, that four headed muscle of the femur, with its
vastus lateralis, vastus medialis, vastus intermedium
and rectus femoris bend and straighten.

The hamstrings, those string-like tendons in the hollow of the knee—
the semitendinosus, semimembranosus
and biceps femoris—extend and flex.

The adductor longus and the gracilis keep the runner upright
the beefy stomach of the leg, the gastrocnemius, points and lifts
the popliteus, devoted solely to the knee, rotates and unlocks
the Iliotibial band stabilizes and assists
the synovial fluid lubricates
and the bursae reduce friction.

O I say these are not the parts and poems of the body only, but of the soul,
O I say the soul of the runner is the knee!

oct 2/2 MILES

59 degrees
mississippi river road path, north

Running again! Well, mostly walking with a little bit of running too. Since I have only run once (and with a brace) in the past 2 months, I’m easing back into it with this plan. Today I walked for 4.5 minutes and ran for .5 minutes 6 times. It felt good to be running again. I was surprised by how fast 30 seconds went by. On Wednesday, I’ll walk 4, run 1 and Friday: walk 3, run 2.

As I read more poetry and experiment with my own poems, I’m thinking about line breaks. I found a useful exercise in which you take the same poem and arrange the line breaks differently depending on 6 Ss: speed, sound, syntax, surprise, sense, and space. I applied it to a poem I wrote about the body a few months back. Here’s the original poem:

The body is a machine.
Not the body as machine
or the body is like a machine
or the body is only a machine.
But, the body is a machine.
An efficient machine,
capturing energy, consuming minerals, converting air into breath.
The body is an intricate machine,
made up of muscles and tendons
and ligaments and joints and bones
that work together in the complex process of locomotion.
The body is a marvelous machine,
containing strange creatures
with multiple heads and fantastical names.
The body is a beautiful machine,
composed of grace and exuberance and joy.
The body is a powerful machine,
able to endure intense pain and absorb tremendous force.
The body is a delicate and temperamental machine;
it can shut down from overuse, lack of use or repeated abuse.

And, here’s a version where I took the best parts of each “s” attempt:

The body is a machine.
Not as
is like
is only
but is

An efficient machine,
capturing energy,
consuming minerals,
converting air into breath.

An intricate machine,
containing muscles and tendons
and ligaments and joints and bones
and organs and arteries and veins
and fluids and systems that work together
in the complex process
of locomotion.

A marvelous machine,
made up of strange creatures
with multiple heads
and melodious names.

A beautiful machine,
composed of grace
and exuberance
and joy.

A powerful machine,
able to endure
intense pain and
absorb
tremendous force.

And a delicate and temperamental machine
that can shut down from
overuse,
lack of use
repeated abuse.

august 21/3 MILES!!!

68 degrees
74% humidity
mississippi river north/south/north/south back to 36th street parking lot

I ran again today for the first time since August 4, a little less than 2 1/2 weeks ago. The first 10 minutes were difficult, with lots of pain, even though, as the doctor prescribed, I took 3 ibuprofen 30 minutes before running. Probably the most pain that I’ve ever experienced while running, which isn’t saying that much because I tend to stop if I’m feeling a lot of pain. Then, when I’d almost hit a mile, I started feeling better. Maybe my knee and quad had warmed up or I was used to pain, not sure, but I felt like I could keep going. The doctor had told me to try one mile and if that felt good, another mile, and if that felt good, one more mile. So that’s what I did. By the end of the third mile I was tired and glad to be done but now, 2 hours later, I feel fine. Not too sore. And I can lift my straight leg, from a sitting position, off of the ground!

Some passages from Mary Oliver’s Long Life that I want to remember:

flashing like tinsel

at the center: I am shaking; I am flashing like tinsel. Restless…”(90).

seasons: falling/fall/followed/follow

summer falling into fall, to be followed by what will follow: winter again: count on it (90).

obedience to mystery

Opulent and ornate world, because at its root, and its axis, and its ocean bed, it swings through the universe quietly and certainly. It is: fun, and familiar, and healthful, and unbelievably refreshing, and lovely. And it is the theater of the spiritual; it is the multiform utterly obedient to a mystery (90).

green and blue dyes

The constancy of the physical world, under its green and blue dyes, draws me toward a better, richer self, call it elevation (there is hardly an adequate word), where I might ascend a little–where a gloss of spirit would mirror itself in worldly action. I don’t mean just mild goodness. I mean feistiness too, the fires of human energy stoked; I mean a gladness vivacious enough to disarrange the sorrows of the world into something better. I mean whatever real rejoicing can do!

brassy and wonderful

We all know how brassy and wonderful it is to come into some new understanding. Imagine what it would be like, to lounge on the high ledge of submission and pure wonder (91).

between our own best possibilities, and the view from our own window

It is one of the perils of our so-called civilized age that we do not yet acknowledge enough, or cherish enough, this connection between soul and landscape–between our own best possibilities, and the view from our own windows (91).

august 4/9 MILES

58 degrees
a little more than the almost downtown turn around

Running when it’s in the 50s is so much better than running in the mid 60s! It was a beautiful morning for a run. I felt strong and not too tired. I ran the first half without stopping, then took a brief walking break at the top of the hill and another one at some point during the run–I think? After spending a lot of time thinking/writing about the run to lake harriet and how it wanders beside the creek, I was struck by how straight the path to downtown is. While it occasionally strays from the biking path, they are usually right next to each other. And the path crosses under several bridges–Lake Street, the Railroad Trestle, Franklin Avenue, I-94, Washington Avenue, the biking/walking bridge to the East Bank of the U of M,10th Avenue and 35W–but not over them. You also don’t cross any roads. The biggest features of this route are the two hills: Franklin and 35W. And the river, the gorge, the views of the U of M campus and the Minneapolis skyline.

I picked up Mary Oliver’s collection of essays/poems, Long Life, from the library yesterday and started it after my run. I haven’t even made it through the forward and I’m already inspired!

Writing poems, for me but not necessarily for others, is a way of offering praise to the world. In this book you will find, set among the prose pieces, a few poems. Think of them that way, as little alleluias. They’re not trying to explain anything, as the prose does. They just sit there on the page, and breathe (xiv).

No Explanation Necessary

What a thing to do!
To sit and just breathe.
How novel,
how necessary,
how different from what is expected.
Who needs an explanation
when there’s inspiration
and expiration
and alleluias?

And, here’s one of Oliver’s Alleluias:

Can you Imagine? by Mary Oliver

For example, what the trees do
not only in lightening storms
or the watery dark of a summer night
or under the white nets of winter
but now, and now, and now–whenever
we’re not looking. Surely you can’t imagine
they just stand there looking the way they look
when we’re looking; surely you can’t imagine
they don’t dance, from the root up, wishing
to travel a little, not cramped so much as wanting
a better view, or more sun, or just as avidly
more shade–surely you can’t imagine they just
stand there loving every
minute of it, the birds or the emptiness, the dark rings
of the years slowly and without a sound
thickening, and nothing different unless the wind, 
and then only in its own mood, comes
to visit, surely you can’t imagine
patience, and happiness, like that.

I’ve just been editing a piece in which I reflect on what leaves on a tree are for and last month I pondered whether or not trees sigh and why. Now, I want to imagine more about what trees do when we’re not around. As I wrote this last line, I remembered by Modern Philosophy class from college and studying the empiricist George Berkeley and the classic question prompted by his suggestion that “The objects of sense exist only when they are perceived: the trees therefore are in the garden, or the chairs in the parlour, no longer than while there is some body by to perceive them”: If a tree falls in the forest and no one is there to hear it, does it still make a sound?

Maybe I should play with this question? Here’s a link I found to how some people in the UK respond.

august 2/4 MILES

67 degrees
74% humidity
mississippi river road path, north/mississippi river road path, south

A good run. Ran faster than usual for three miles and then a bit slower, with 2 short walk breaks, for the last mile. Should I have kept running and not stopped? Was I being mentally weak? Not sure, but I’m still happy with my run.

About 4 minutes into my run, the walking/running path dips below the road and runs alongside a steep hill and above a floodplain forest and a dirt path that leads to the Mississippi River and the sand flats. I love looking at this forest and trying to see what’s down there. Maybe a tent? People walking? A dog or fox or coyote running? Today, when I did this, I caught a glimpse of the river, sparkling bright from the early sun. Just a small flash, piercing through the thick trees.

note: On the National Park site for the Mississippi River Gorge, they refer to the trees that I like checking when I run as the “floodplain forest” and the beach by the river as the “sand flats.”

 

july 31/13.6 MILES

70 degrees
81% humidity
dew point: 64
mississippi river road path, south/minnnehaha creek path/lake harriet/minnehaha creek/mississippi river road path, north

Ugh. Hard. Hot. Humid. I really don’t like running in the summer. Even so, I didn’t give up and kept moving the whole time. More walking than running in the second half, I think. Running to Lake Harriet has become my new long run route. It’s time to write a new running route essay. Here’s a list of landmarks along the route that I might incorporate into an essay or writing experiment.

The Run to Lake Harriet, Some Landmarks

  • 36th Street parking lot on the river road
  • the double bridge (a bridge for walkers/runners and one for bikers) near 44th street on the river road
  • under the 46th street bridge, near Ford parkway
  • Minnehaha Falls
  • Minnehaha Parkway and by the old neighborhood that we lived in for 10 years
  • the light at 34th
  • the four way stop at Nokomis
  • the light at 28th
  • Mel-o-glaze, where they sell “legal crack balls,” at least that’s what their sign proudly proclaims
  • the dinosaur park
  • lake nokomis rec center
  • over the small steel bridge that has a stand of trees that smell just like the UP
  • under the cedar bridge
  • the light at Bloomington
  • where Rosie learned how to bike
  • where the running and biking path split and where it becomes confusing and disorienting the first few times you run it
  • the bunny
  • the woods, part 1 (running under the freeway)
  • the woods, part 2 (where I saw the freaky cat just chilling out in the woods by the path, staring at me as I ran by
  • where you come out of the woods
  • running down the wooden platform and not up the big hill
  • the woods, part 3 (where you separate from the biking path by crossing over a small wooden bridge)
  • lynhurst park, where I fill up my water bottle
  • the woods, part 4 (between lynhurst and lake harriet)
  • Lake Harriet!

Reading through this list, I started thinking about words we use for roads/paths and bridges.

Bridge

link
overpass
platform
arch
branch
span
trestle
extension

Path

trail
lane
road
sidewalk
parkway
artery
byway
track
route
street
groove
rut
walkway
footpath

july 28/8.45 MILES

69 degrees
79% humidity
dew point: 60
the almost downtown turn around

This run felt hard and I wasn’t sure I’d be able to do it. But I did, with the help of several walks. I’m surprised at how little it bothers me that I’m walking so much during these runs. Or that I’m going so slow. Have I given up or just become wiser and more measured in my approach? Or some thing else that I can’t quite figure out? Whatever it is, I’m continuing to train and survive and have moments that I deeply enjoy. I would like to work on pushing through some of the more difficult moments.

For the first half of the run, I listened to an old On Being episode with Mary Oliver. I love Mary Oliver. Here are a few lines that I particularly liked:

What is the meaning of life?

“have no answers but have some suggestions.” I was expecting her to end her line with: “have lots of questions.” I like that she didn’t and I like the idea that we can make suggestions instead of assertions or claims. These suggestions offer insight without definite answers. I’d like to do a writing experiment organized around the idea of having suggestions instead of answers.

writing while walking

They discuss how Oliver writes on her many walks through the woods.  A notebook is mentioned. I’d like to know, in more detail, her process of walking and writing. A few months ago, I read about Jamie Quattro and how, if she got an idea while she was running for a story, she would stop and find a stick and then scratch some notes on her arm (or in her hand?). I’ve tried composing lines while running by speaking them into my voice memo app. But, how does Oliver do it? Maybe she writes about it somewhere?

listening convivially

Krista Tippet references Mary Oliver’s suggestion to “listen convivially” while walking. Where does Oliver say this? In a poem? Prose? An interview?

convivially: good company, joyful/agreeable attitude, greeting others/the world with delight

For me, listening in such an important part of the process of running and paying attention. I like the idea of being convivial as we listen. What are the subtle (and maybe not so subtle) differences between being convivial and generous or open?

attention without feeling is only a report

“You need empathy with it rather than just reporting. Reporting is for field guides. And they’re great. They’re helpful. But that’s what they are. But they’re not thought provokers. And they don’t go anywhere. And I say somewhere that attention is the beginning of devotion, which I do believe.” Attention/Devotion/Rumination/Engagement/Feeling the Force of Ideas and Experiences and Moments.

mystery is in that combination of discipline and the convivial listening

I’m really interested in how being disciplined and undisciplined combine to generate creativity and a more meaningful life. Limits, in the form of structure–Oliver discusses how one of her most famous poems, “Wild Geese,” began as a writing exercise in using end-stopped lines–and freedom, in the form of experimenting, taking risks, imagining new ways of writing, being, doing.

Such wonderful ideas! I can’t wait to read more.

Here are 2 of her poems that I found and want to spend more time with: Spring and What is it?


And here’s my attempt at playing around with Oliver’s idea of suggestions, not answers.

a suggestion on suggestions

I’ve never been good with answers,
giving them, that is.
I can handle accepting them,
as long as they aren’t final
or firm
or boring,
lacking imagination and a wonder
that is necessary for joyful living.
I used to believe that this was a problem,
my refusal to give answers.
It certainly is for some people.
But, no longer for me.
Answers are overrated and too easy.
Even sometimes lazy.
I always want questions.
And now, having heard Mary Oliver utter it in an interview,
suggestions.
Possibilities to explore, entertain, use in our experiments.
Proposals that might fit the facts and feelings.
Things to consider
and ruminate over as I wander through the woods
or run on the path that stretches ahead of me for miles.

And, a poem inspired by Oliver’s exercise in combining end-stopped lines with enjambment and by Gros (Philosophy of Walking) and his use of Nietzsche and the question from The Gay Science about the value of a book or dance or musical composition: “Can they walk?”

How Does Your Writing Move?

With ideas that end when the line or the path does.
And ideas that wander, traveling over
the edge, maybe down
into the gorge, where mystery lives,
behind the green veil that covers the trees from mid-May to early October.

In forms that hold tight with elbows at a 90 degree angle.
And forms that sprawl
all over the place. Messy moments
transformed into words that spill across
the page, leaking energy (and black ink).

Using syntax that remains steady and even.
And syntax that starts. Stops. And starts again,
moving slowly through ideas and experiences and feelings and images.
Then, rapidly.
Like jagged breathing during a tempo run.

july 26/4 MILES

72 degrees
90% humidity
dew point: 69

Did I go for a run or a steam bath, just now, outside in humidity so wet that it dripped off the trees? The dew point was high too, but it didn’t feel thick, only moist. Felt pretty good on my run. My knee didn’t hurt and I could handle the humidity and the dripping sweat. Briefly walked twice to make sure that I didn’t run too fast and that I was recovering and not racing.

Yesterday, I started work on something about Monday’s long run:

Almost

Almost three hours.
Almost one hundred and eighty minutes.
Almost one fourth of my waking hours.
Almost sixteen miles.
Almost two thirds of a marathon.
Almost the age I got my driver’s license.
Almost too much.
Almost too long.
Almost too tired.
But not quite.

july 24/15.4 MILES

67 degrees
mississippi river road path, south/minnehaha falls/minnehaha parkway/lake nokomis/minnehaha creek path/lake harriet/return

My longest run ever. Slow. Difficult. Lots of walking. But, I did it. And, I’ll do it again next week. It was a beautiful morning for a run. It started to feel really difficult on the way back. I have no deep thoughts. No brilliant insights. No interesting observations. Just fatigue and relief.

Technically, I should count these miles in this week’s total, but this long run is for last week. I didn’t have time to run it any sooner because 2 of my college friends (and favorite people!) were visiting. So I’m adding the miles to last week.

Hover over entry to reveal the erasure poem

july 21/8.2 MILES

72 degrees
86% humidity
dew point: 70

I had originally been planning to run my 16 miles this morning, but when I got outside and felt how thick and heavy the air was, I knew it wasn’t happening. So I did my 8 miles instead, with several walks. At about 5 miles, I had to stop and create a make shift band-aid for the blisters on two of my toes. I ripped up the paper towel I had and wrapped it around the toes. It worked pretty well. Note to self: always put band-aids in my pack!

july 18/4 MILES

75 degrees
87% humidity
dew point: 70
mississippi river road path, north

Yuck! Uncomfortably thick and heavy. The first half of the run was okay, but my legs started to hurt and my pulse started to race after the turn around. I stopped to walk a few times. I really don’t like running in the heat. I’m not looking forward to the Torchlight 5K tomorrow night.

It seems fitting to post a collage version of my humidity/dew point fragments that I’ve been working on in this entry.

Bad Air! Bad Air!

“What is it exactly that I find so totally unbearable? Something which I cannot deal with on my own, which makes me choke and feel faint? Bad air! Bad air!”

unpleasantly warm

It was hot. It was not a good idea to run this morning. Only 7:30, but it was hot. Already, the day shot. No more running, biking, gardening, just hiding inside. We should have left earlier. Maybe 6? Before it was hot. I forgot how miserable 77 can be when there’s humidity and a high dew point. And the wind, it was hot too. We only ran a few miles before we stopped. It’s too hot, I said to Scott. And he agreed.

damp

The dew point is the temperature at which water condenses. The closer the dew point is to the temp in the air, the longer the sweat will stay in your hair, or any other part of your body, because the air is too saturated and your sweat can’t evaporate, which is how your body cools you down.

muggy

Oh you! You muggy, buggy thing. So thick it makes me sick! Why can’t the water you contain be refreshing like the rain? Why must you make me feel so moist, a word I detest hearing almost as much as I despise feeling its effects: sweat that drips and sticks, heavy air that presses down on my body, sinking me deeper into the ground and making it almost impossible to fly or even to lift my legs up off the damp earth.

moist

How many cups of sweat can fit
Under the brim of my baseball cap?
More than 2?
It’s hard to
Determine but
I keep
Trying to figure it out while I run through the thick air. I think my cap has
Yielded at least 3 ounces of water per mile.

thick

When you mix up the words in dew point you get: not wiped. Not wiped? I guess if the dew point is low. Anything under 50 would work. Otherwise, it should be totally wiped, but those aren’t the letters in dew point. You also get: wit open’d. Really? Could more miserable conditions = more wit? I suppose for some comedians, this is true. And you get: owed pint. Owed pint of what? A pint of blood that traveled to the surface of your skin to help cool you down instead of flowing to your heart? Or the pint of beer that you owe your body for putting it through the misery of running in the heat and humidity?

oppressive

The Index of Human Misery, the Dew Point Version:
<50: very comfortable
50-60: manageable
65: uncomfortable
70: so thick and hard to breathe.
75: ugh!
80+: stay home, it’s not worth it.

wet (blanket)

Have you ever said,
Under your breath, in the
Middle of your run,
I really don’t like humidity & humidity heard you & replied: Well, I
Don’t like you either!
I am going to make you even more miserable because of your
Thoughtless comment!
Yesterday I think that happened to me.

stifling

The effects of heat and humidity on your body as you run:
increased sweat,
depletion of electrolytes,
flagging energy,
dehydration,
the pumping of more blood to the skin and less to your heart or your muscles,
sweat that can’t evaporate to cool your body,
elevated heart rate.

sticky

It’s not the heat, it’s the humidity. It’s not the humidity, it’s the heat. It’s not the heat, it’s the atmospheric moisture. It’s not the warm temperatures, it’s the moisture in the air and in your hair, on your skin, in-between your toes, on the back of your neck. And it’s the stickiness between your fingers as you rub them together, trying to keep your hands relaxed. And it’s the fibers from the cottonwood seeds, the catkins, that fly into your eye or your mouth or get stuck in the sweat on your face.

relief

86 degrees. Hot! Difficult! Some success, some failure. A hot wind, blowing in my face, which is already bright red. The sun beating down. My pulse heating up. No running playlist to distract me. And no memory of the running chants that I created to keep me going. What am I thinking about, other than: when am I done? why am I running in this heat? will I make it to Lake Nokomis for open swim? I stop and walk several times. But then I’m at the lake and it’s cooler, with a breeze coming off of the water, and I’m almost done and I’m trying to get past two other runners that are running just a little bit slower than me so I speed up for the last half mile. It feels good.

open swim: 2400 yards
bike to open swim/back: 8 miles

A great swim and a good bike ride. Some serious exercise today. 116 minutes worth. Talked with a woman after the swim today and she told me that she just learned to swim 2 weeks ago and managed to swim an entire loop tonight. Wow! Very impressive. I told her that I learned to swim when I was 6 months old and it took me until I was 38 to swim across the lake! She also said that she’s signed up to do a half ironman triathlon (1.2 mile swim/54 mile bike/13.2 mile run) this fall. That’s hard core.

july 13/8 MILES

60 degrees
77% humidity
the almost downtown turn around

60 degrees! I run so much better when the weather is cooler. Today was a very good run. I ran up and down both hills without stopping and felt strong and happy to be running.

I’m collecting fragments for (maybe?) a collage on bad air, which at this point I’m defining as humidity, heat and dew point. Here are two more things to add:

1

the effects of heat on my running
a
bright red face, an increase in 
coughing and
clearing my throat, a strong
desire to stop doing anything,
especially running, very
few happy thoughts
going through my
head, shallow
inhaling,
jagged breathing, no
kick in my stride,
legs feeling
mushy,
not strong
or
powerful, all
quickness
rapidly evaporating while
sweat refuses to do the same,
too much moisture for that, so it pools
under my baseball cap and down to the
very tip of my ponytail, a
wick that collects the
(e)xtra water then drops it on my arm or leg or bright
yellow shirt, sometimes making
zigzag patterns on it.

2

Do point me to the pool or the lake or the air conditioning or anywhere that isn’t here, where the temperature is high, the heat index is higher and my desire to do anything but run is at its highest.

3

Hugh, mid tee or Hugh, mid t (shirt) or hew, mid tree?

open swim
3 loops: 3600 yards

My longest swim of the season. Great conditions for it. Overcast. No wind. Cooler. Felt good. On the way out of the water, I dropped and lost my nose plug. The first causality of the season. No big deal; nose plugs are under $10.

july 6/2.1 MILES

75 degrees
69% humidity
mississippi river road path, south/mississippi river road path, north

Completed a quick tempo run this hot and humid morning. Felt good. Realized that during my race on Tuesday, I didn’t use any of my spells/mantras/chants. I didn’t think about my breathing. Maybe that would have helped?

Biking: 8 miles
Swimming: 1500 yards

Here’s something I wrote for my writing class this week:

In Out
Take in oxygen Release carbon dioxide
Take in the world, the colors: the greens and browns of the gorge floor, the grays of the sky on a cloudy day, the electric blue of the yarn bomb on the railroad bridge, the bright yellow-green of the runner’s shirt, the orange of the traffic cone, the red of the stop sign, the purple of the lilac bush, the pink of my jacket, the silvery-white of the river as the sun dances on its surface. Breathe in and accept what the world is offering: Energy. Life. Inspiration. Release worries and doubts, expel that which is toxic, force out and offer up what you don’t need, what you don’t want, what doesn’t provide energy or life. Expiration.
Favorite reason for holding my breath, kid version: completing 10 back flips in a row under water at the neighborhood pool. My sister and I used to practice this all summer. One time she dreamed that Darth Vader had kidnapped me. He tied me to a grill and threatened to kill me unless she could complete 10 back flips in a row without stopping to breathe. She did it, of course. What you might say to your kid when she’s freaking out: Calm down and take some deep breaths.

What, in retaliation, she might do: Turn blue.
Breathing in winter is ______.

1. difficult, my lungs are burning!
2. fun when it’s so cold that the snot in my nose freezes up.
3. the best. I love the cold, pure air.

 Breathing in summer is ______.

1. dangerous. Watch out for the bugs!
2. incredibly difficult after an open swim.
3. so thick! I hate humidity.
What you need for breathing: lungs, intercostal muscles, a diaphragm, comfortable pants What you don’t need: someone telling you to calm down and breathe.
Breathing and ethical imperatives, inspired by Judith Butler: A life that is livable is only possible when you have room to breathe. A life that is valuable/valued is only possible when you breathe more good air in. What Nietzsche writes about bad air in On the Genealogy of Morals: “What is it exactly that I find so totally unbearable? Something which I cannot deal with on my own, which makes me choke and feel faint? Bad air! Bad air! It’s when something which has failed comes close to me, when I have to smell the entrails of a failed soul!”
Smells smelled while breathing during a run: burnt toast; smoke from a fire, below me, somewhere deep in the gorge; skunk; rotting leaves; too much perfume on the runner I passed; chemicals after the rain; the sewer; the inside rim of my super nasty baseball cap that I’ve been wearing, and have never washed, for almost every run and almost every race for the past 5 years. Number of times I’ve attempted a snot rocket or shooting shot not out of my nose, mid-run: 1.

Number of times that attempt has failed: 1.
What breathes: noses; mouths; skin; leaves. living things. What doesn’t breathe: that annoying race t-shirt; my mom, not since Sept. 30, 2009.
Reasons why we breathe: so we don’t die; to embrace the world; to take in oxygen; to calm down; to walk; to run; to fly; we don’t need a reason, our body will do it anyway. Reasons why I can’t breathe: too much humidity; running too fast; a stuffed-up nose from inhaling lake water; finding out my mom was dying from stage 4 pancreatic cancer.
How to breathe in: Use your lungs. Breathe in deeply through your nose and mouth, with your diaphragm. As your abdomen extends, so does your invitation to the world to enter and fill you with wonder and gratitude. How to breathe out: Relax your shoulders. Let your body do the work of forcing the carbon dioxide out. Let go of the toxins, the resistance to grieving what you are losing or have lost. Prepare for another breath.

june 30/4 MILES

67 degrees
76% humidity
dew point 57
mississippi river road path, north/mississippi river road path, south

A good run. Followed my plan: Run 1.25/Walk 30 sec./Run 1.25/Walk 1 min/Run 1.5. Ran with headphones, so I didn’t really think that much, which was fine.

I’ve been thinking more about open swimming lately. Here’s a abecedarian poem about it:

Open Swim

Annoying things happen during an open swim.
Bad weather, big waves
Causing choppy water that can make me
Drift off the course. Bright sun in my
Eyes, blinding me. Bright sun on my
Face, burning me.
Goggles that can fog up, although that
Hardly happens anymore now that
I use baby shampoo in the lenses.
Just a little.
Keep it on the
Lens for a few
Minutes, then gently rinse it out. My
Nose used to get really stuffed up after swimming. I could
Only breathe through my mouth. At night, I would
Panic, unable to fall back asleep,
Questioning whether or not it was
Really worth it to keep doing open
Swim. It is. I searched for a solution. I
Tried sprays and pills, which didn’t work. Then, I tried nose plugs.
Uncomfortable and ugly. But effective.
Very, very effective and cheap.
Whenever I swim now, I wear them. I bought an
eXtra pair, just in case I lose the first one. I keep both cases in my
Yellow backpack, always making sure that I
Zip them up tightly, in the pouch on the top.

june 28/4 MILES

69 degrees
89% humidity
mississippi river road path, north/minnehaha falls/mississippi river road path, south

The 1/2 marathon is next Tuesday and I have a running/walking plan for it. There are water stops every 2.5 miles until mile 7.5 when the water stops shorten to every 2 miles. I will stop and walk 30 seconds after 1.25 miles, then 1 minute at 2.5 (water), 3.75, 5 (water), 6.25, 7.5 (water), 9.5 (water) and 11.5 (water) miles. I tried an abbreviated version of this plan on my run today, walking at miles 1.25 and 2.5. I ran faster and finished stronger.

The key, I think, to all of this is to stay consistent and stick to my plan. I’m too good at finding reasons to alter my plans. Not because I don’t want to do the work but because I don’t trust my plan or because I think I can find a better way or because I’m restless and don’t like the obligation of sticking to one plan. I like to have options and the ability to think and imagine new ways of being and doing. And I like making plans much more than following them. Often, this is one of my strengths: flexible, creative thinking, always open to new possibilities. Being undisciplined. But, it can be a liability. Sometimes discipline and focus are needed.

june 25/3 MILES

56 degrees
mississippi river road path, north/mississippi river road path, south

56 degrees in June at 8 am. On February 19, it was 58 degrees. 58. Of course, that was at 2 pm, not 8 am. But, still. This weather is crazy. I ran much faster this morning and it felt pretty good. I think I need to add in a few faster runs each week.

58 degrees
open swim: 1 loop/1200 yards
bike to lake nokomis and back: 7 miles

Brrr. Actually, with my wetsuit on, it wasn’t too cold. The water temp was probably about 15 degrees warmer than the air temp. The water was very choppy in the middle of the lake, closer to the little beach. I don’t mind choppy. It’s kind of fun and it makes the trip across the lake even more interesting.  The bike ride was tougher. Lots of wind, some rain too. Sore legs. There was a tree down, stretching across the whole width of the street on my bike route. Must have been because of the strong winds yesterday afternoon. There were several frantic dogs at the lake, barking and lunging at walkers, runners, other dogs.

june 24/9.5 MILES

60 degrees
lake nokomis loop, short + minnehaha creek path/minnehaha dog park/mississippi river road path, north

Oh, if the weather could be like this on every run! Ran to the lake and took in the beautiful blue water, undulating in the wind. Too cold for swimming, but just right for running and walking. I stopped to walk at 4.25 miles for a few minutes. Then ran again, with headphones this time, down Minnehaha Parkway, past the falls and turned around at the dog park. My running wasn’t fast and wasn’t non-stop, but I still enjoyed being outside and felt good about what I accomplished.

june 20/3 MILES

63 degrees
dew point 53
70% humidity
mississippi river road path, north/mississippi river road path, south

Got a late start because of rain, so decided to do my shorter run today. Listened to the new Lorde album while I ran. Managed to hear the daily walker say good morning to me and answered back with my own good morning. Felt pretty good, despite the heat and high dew point. Other than saying good morning, I don’t remember that much about the run.

open swim
2 loops/2400 yards

A good swim. The waves were choppy on the way back from the little beach to the big beach, which I don’t mind. I feel tired and have a warm glow all over, from sore muscles. So wonderful. I love swimming across the lake. It’s so much better than swimming in a pool, doing endless laps and flip turns.

So, what do I think about when I’m swimming?

  • Where’s the buoy?
  • Am I still on course?
  • Any other swimmers around that I might run into?
  • There are a lot of airplanes in the sky today.
  • Is my nose plug working, or will my nose get horribly stuffed up around midnight and keep me up all night because I can’t breathe?
  • Should I do a third loop?
  • These waves aren’t bothering me too much, just tiring me out.
  • The buoys are a little screwed up and messing with my big beach to little beach trajectory.
  • My calf feels fine.
  • I can’t believe it’s summer already and I’m swimming in the lake.

My thoughts during an open swim are really mundane. Because of my vision problems, I spend a lot of time trying to site the buoys and stay on the course. I really don’t need to spend that much time on it. I’m an excellent swimmer who swims straight and rarely strays too far. Maybe I can train myself to focus more on the textures and sensations of the swim next time?