I was able to run by the gorge today! Sunny, calm, not too cold. What a wonderful morning to be outside! Watched the river come into view as I ran above the oak savanna. Admired the water glowing through the tall, leafless trees. Appreciated how the pedestrians I encountered kept their distance. Running by turkey hollow, I forgot to check for turkeys. Yesterday afternoon, when we drove by, RJP pointed them out. Were they there today? Not sure. Saw my shadow several times. When she was running ahead of me, her hands looked strange–maybe that was because my gloves were only partially on?
I don’t remember hearing any birds or music coming from radios or the clicking and clacking of ski poles. No dogs barking deep in the gorge or mysterious rustling in the brush. No gushing water–well, except for from the manhole at 38th and Edmund. No traffic or honking or loud conversations. No wind chimes or laughing kids. I do remember hearing a loud truck up above near the Ford Bridge, and a car approaching from somewhere behind me–on the river road or edmund? I heard some clanging and assumed, without being able to see, that the person on the other side of the boulevard was walking a dog. Near Folwell there was a lot of pounding and buzzing from a nail gun as workers repaired a roof.
The only other things I remember are thinking that this was run was wonderful and that my right knee was okay and that it was also hard and I would be glad when I reached the place where I could stop.
Phrases I Dislike that are Overused on Facebook and Twitter
A few weeks ago, I started a list of phrases that people use on social media that irritate me. Since I added one more this morning, I thought I’d post them here:
- Louder for the people in the back
- Thank you for attending my TED talk
- I was today years old when…
- I don’t know who needs to hear this but …
- chef’s kiss
- Starting the tweet with “welp!”
- People who, when responding to a tweet that asks, “What are you reading this week?” respond: “this tweet”
Just had a thought about this last one. My first reaction when I encounter the response, “this tweet,” is: do you really think this is clever or that a dozen other people haven’t already said this? But what if the person who tweets this knows it’s stupid and has just decided that it is necessary for at least one person to always tweet this, that the thread is not complete unless this tired joke has been made and that they are the person who must always do it. There’s a story there, I think, or at least a character detail or an aside to a story.