bike: 8.5 miles
lake nokomis and back
9:00 am (there) / 10:45 (back)
More people on the trail this morning. Less chance to notice anything other than how close I was to other people. Even so, I’ll try to remember 5 things on the way to the lake, and 5 things on the way back.
10 Things I Noticed While Biking
on the way to the lake
- a park worker in a bright yellow and orange vest, weeding, on a part of the path that was blocked off with orange cones
- several walkers on the biking side of the trail
- pounding from the construction site across from the DQ that I momentarily thought was my bike pedal doing something weird
- wind rushing past my ears
- a close encounter with several ducks — under a bridge, as I hugged the far edge of the trail to avoid an approaching pedestrian and biker: ducks, right there!
on the way back from the lake
- getting stuck behind 2 slow moving bikes — difficult to pass, difficult to bike slowly enough to not run into them (6 mph?)
- behind another slow-moving biker — as they went up or down a hill, they shifted gears with slow, awkward clicks
- another biker behind us, too impatient not too pass: “on your left”
- the lines on the bike path have been touched up, but the big bump on the trail hasn’t been fixed
- road closed sign for july 13th. No, not again!!
swim: 3 loops
lake nokomis open swim
Every time I come to an open swim, I am deeply grateful that this program exists. To be able to swim across the lake for 2 hours, 6 times a week? Sometimes I can’t believe that something this wonderful is actually allowed to continue without being “improved” in ways that make it worse.
It looked like it might rain and it was a little windy, but the water was fine. Warm, not too choppy. Mostly, I breathed every 5 strokes. Sometimes, 3 or 4 or 6. Once, when a wave hit me as I surfaced, after 2 strokes. Saw some more planes, but no dragonflies or birds. Where are the seagulls? I’m trying to remember the last time I noticed a seagull on the water.
I just remembered: just before I started the swim, I could hear the creeaakk of the swing at the top of the beach. I think they’ve needed to oil that swing for 10 years now.
Leila Chatti has the most amazing abecedarian poem in The Nation. Here’s a portion of it: