jan 18/5.5 MILES

24 degrees
75% snow-covered
franklin loop

Much warmer today! The blanket of snow by the welcoming oaks was beautiful with the bright sun and the bare branches. The air was mostly calm, except for on the Franklin bridge. That was rough. The path was mostly clear, except for right after the Franklin bridge. I twisted my foot a little on the soft, clumpy snow. Overall, a good run.

the path

a few stripes of almost bare pavement on the edges of the path mixed with moments of not quite melting snow that isn’t packed but loose like sand–loose enough not to give solid footing but firm enough to twist an ankle. almost completely white. no satisfying crunch, just a dull thud that absorbs the force of striking feet. no puddles yet. all ice patches gone. most of the path is easy to run on while a few stretches are treacherous.

Yesterday, I experimented with the villanelle form and wrote a poem about running around the track. Here’s the form of a villanelle:

19 lines; 5 tercets + 1 quatrain; 1st and 3rd line of beginning tercet are alternately repeated in third line of remaining tercets, then last two lines of quatrain; rhyme scheme = aba/aba/aba/aba/aba/abaa

A Run Around the Track Isn’t Hard to Do

A run around the track isn’t hard to do
with its road that never runs out
An endless loop, run until you’re through

Warm and dry with a clear avenue
no cars to avoid, no need to shout
A run around the track isn’t hard to do

A little tedious, a lack of view
but a chance to fly fast, to go all out
on this endless loop, run until you’re through

Your brain can go blank, your thoughts can be few
mechanically moving without doubt
A run around the track isn’t hard to do

It can be monotonous, that’s true
encountering the same people on this repetitive route
of endless loops, run until you’re through

So little to look at, so little to do
but keep track of the laps, not losing count
A run around the track isn’t hard to do
but it’s a boring, endless loop, run until you’re through

And here’s another fragment of a poem that I wrote about the track from a few days ago:

more routine than ritual

running inside at the track
attracts a different sort of church-goer
than running outside by the gorge
the congregation at the track comes
for the warm dry conditions and
stays for the comforting repetitions
looping lapping leaving
out the world
cocooned cared for
no wind no rain
but also no fun
more routine than ritual
only a run