When I got to the river, I turned to the right today. Decided to check out the falls to see if they were frozen yet. Not quite. I could tell as I approached, hearing the rushing water. Half falling, half frozen. Beautiful. Waved at a cute little kid, bundled up in bright orange, as I left minnehaha park. Looked at the river a lot as I ran. Big ice floes. The gorge was burnt orange and brown. My lower back ached a little after I was done. Do I need to stop running for a few days? I hope not. Checked my watch and noticed I had a message from my daughter, “hands down, you are the best.” At first I was confused, then pleased, wondering what I had done to deserve such a sweet message. Then I read it closer and realized that she had gotten the alert for my completed workout and was sending me one of the stock responses. Oh well, I’ll take the compliment anyway. Anything else I remember? Running by some park workers in their bright yellow vests, doing some work around the park. Noticing how cold and lonely the empty playground seemed. Hearing a bus belching as it crossed the 46th street bridge, heading toward ford parkway. Listening to my feet striking the path, trying to make them softer by stepping lighter. Passing only 2 runners (I think), no bikers or roller skiers or daily walkers.
greenway bridge turn around, mississippi river road
16 degrees, feels like 4
Bundled up in my new favorite winter running outfit: two pairs of running tights, green shirt, orange pull-over, black vest, socks, buff, hat, gloves. Didn’t feel cold at all, except for my fingers around the 1 mile mark. Got to greet the Daily Walker. Forgot to notice the river. Did see steam rising up out of the rowing clubhouse below the lake street bridge. Did I see any other runners? I don’t remember. Saw at least 3 bikers. The ground is bare, except for some dead leaves. No snow. No ice. Just a cold path.
For some reason, I am suddenly into cinquains, a poetic form with 5 lines. I particularly like Adelaide Crapsey’s version (what a name!). 5 lines with the following syllable count: 2/4/6/8/2
Here’s one I found, that I especially like:
three silent things:
The falling snow . . . the hour
Before the dawn . . . the mouth of one
And one of mine, inspired by this poem and my morning run:
A Late November Run
by the river.
No snow. No ice. No leaves.
Just me and bare ground absorbing
moustache 10K race, riverfront minneapolis
Ran the Moustache 10K run with Scott for the third year in a row. Didn’t take it fast just ran steadily. I feel pretty great considering I took 10 days off for an IT band injury a few weeks ago and experienced a knee subluxation a few days ago. Things I remember from the run:
- The women who was running (running!) while holding a to go cup of Starbucks coffee and drinking it. I have never seen that before. She was probably running a 8:30/8:45 pace.
- Twisting my foot on the cobblestones.
- Overhearing a guy calling out to his friend as we reached the mile 1 marker, “Ugh, we’ve only run a mile” and saying to Scott, “Wow, we’ve already run a mile!”
- Running up the big hill at mile 5 and listing off the muscles that make up the hamstrings (semitendinosus, semimembranosus, biceps femoris) and the quads (vastus lateralis, vastus medialis, vastus intermedius, rectus femoris) to Scott because he asked–well, he didn’t ask me to list the specific names, just to clarify whether the quads were in the front or back of your leg, but I couldn’t help myself. Forgetting the vastus intermedius and looking it up later.
- Feeling good at the end, happy to be finished but not too tired.
Last night, while sitting on the carpet with my legs stretched out straight, my kneecap slid out of place and didn’t immediately pop right back in. No pain, just the feeling that something wasn’t in the right place. I didn’t panic and walked over to the stairs to pop it back in place. Why does walking up and down the stairs work? I don’t know but it does. My knee is a little stiff but I was able to run 3.2 miles without a problem this morning. It’s annoying to have a kneecap that does this but at least I’ve figured out how to live with it.
greenway bridge turn around
A great run. Sunny. Clear. Fresh cold air. I love winter running. My second run back since taking 10 days off for a minor IT band injury, my first run of over 3 miles without stopping. It felt fine. No pain in my knee or IT band. Paid attention to the river at my favorite part of the gorge: as you run down the hill, below the road, after the welcoming oaks, the trees open up for a keyhole view of the river, which you can see much better when you’re running back from lake street. Reaching the edge of the gorge, above the floodplain forest, it’s still hard to see the water. Too much brown, all the way to the st. paul side. The river is beginning to freeze over. I saw a few ice floes. My fingers were freezing for the first mile, then they warmed up. I saw some bikers, runners and walkers. No roller skiers or fat tires or fat squirrels. Heard a weird bird or a squirrel–or was it a chipmunk?–in a tree chirping shrilling or maybe squeaking.
run: .5 miles
mississippi river road path, north/south
13 degrees, feels like 1
Was excited to go outside and try running in the cold today. For the first 3 or 4 minutes it felt fine but then my left knee started to hurt a little. So I stopped, walked for a few minutes and then started running again. It felt okay, then not okay, then okay again. Decided not to push it too much so I turned around and headed back home. In front of my house, I felt pretty good, like I wanted to keep running, but I decided to be safe. Am I being too cautious? Not sure. I don’t want to re-injure it or miss my race in 2 weeks or not be able to walk outside for a month. Biked in the basement instead. Bummer.
Picked up Linda Pastan’s Traveling Light from the library the other day. Love this line from her poem “Flight”:
They have examined
our luggage made me
remove my shoes
and then my scarf, as if
I might strangle someone
in its silky purple.
But they let my fear
of flight on board,
though its weight
and turnbulence might
bring down any plane.
mississippi river road path, north
I’m writing this entry almost a week late. During this run, about 1/2 mile in, as I felt the joy of winter running, I felt something else: my left leg didn’t want to bend. For a scary second it was stiff and recalcitrant. I kept running and it started working again but when I stopped my left knee hurt and by the time I got home I was having trouble walking. For a few days I was freaked out as I limped around the house wondering what had happened, but finally I realized (with the help of Scott), that it was probably just my IT band. An IT band injury is no fun, but it’s more likely than a tear or a subluxation to not be serious or need surgery or doctor’s visits or physical therapy or MRIs, as long as I let it rest and not run for a while. So, I haven’t run for almost a week now. Up until Friday, I barely walked. Since Saturday, I’ve been biking on my bike, set up on a stand in the basement. It’s feeling much better. I think I might be able to run tomorrow. Since stopping running, a lot has happened, like midterm elections and band concerts and snow and ice and arctic temperatures. Today’s feels like temp? 7 degrees. I wonder, will I be relegated to the bike path until spring now? I hope not. Perhaps the biggest bummer of this minor injury is that I most likely won’t reach my running goal of 1000 miles this year. Last year I failed with 950 miles. How many miles will I lack this year?
So, the I T in IT band stands for Iliotibial. It’s a tendon that extends from your ilium (a wide, flat bone at the top of your hip) to your tibia (shin). What other fun things could IT stand for?
Free (IT) Band Name
- the isosceles triangles
- imperious tina and the intolerable treaties
- insatiable teresa and the intimate tulips
- the intrepid toddlers
- the irritable tigers
- intelligent tom and the incubating theories
- the iambic torsos
- the important tubas
- the inelegant toadstools
- the infringing tableaus
mississippi river road path, north/south
Day five of the November running challenge. Cold, damp and overcast. A gray-smudged sky. Wet leaves covering the sidewalk on the way to the river. Felt like I was in a dream or another world or dazed or something that was almost but not quite real. Beautiful. I like these gray, bare mornings. Near the beginning of my run, as I greeted the welcoming oaks, I stepped on a pile of leaves that wanted a ride–several of them stuck to the bottom of my shoe, squeaking for another minute or two. Gone by the time I started the descent below the road, beside the gorge. I looked down at the forest floor and then tried to get a glimpse of the river. Nothing but brown–not leaves anymore but branches and trunks. Can you ever see the river at this part? I can’t remember. I’ll have to check again next month or the month after that. Focused on trying to swing my right arm as much as my left. Still doesn’t feel natural but it’s getting better. As I neared the railroad trestle, I looked down at the dirt path below me. I think I’ll try to take it before the snow comes–which could be soon. Do I remember much else? I said “good morning” to the Daily Walker. Nodded my head at a few runners and walkers. Reluctantly ran on the grass for a few steps to avoid 2 walkers hogging the path. Didn’t see any roller skiers and only 1 or 2 bikers. Didn’t hear any loud conversations or horns honking. No stupid squirrels got in my way. I didn’t have any magical moments of great insight. But it was a nice run.