Tag: morning

feb 26/5 MILES

32 degrees
mississippi river road walking path

A beautiful Sunday morning. Decided to challenge myself to running without headphones. Focused on listening.

Things I heard while running, a list

  1. Crows cawing
  2. Other birds chirping and cooing
  3. A woodpecker pecking
  4. Geese honking
  5. The swoosh of cars as they drive by on the river road
  6. The worn wheels of a car, plodding along the river road
  7. Some funky music, playing from a radio on a bike
  8. The sharp thud of my shoes on the paved path
  9. The dull thud of my shoes on dirt and debris on the path
  10. The crunch of my shoes on salt and gravel on the path
  11. My breathing, usually slow and measured, occasionally quick and labored, like when climbing the Franklin hill
  12. My zipper pull, rhythmically banging against my jacket as I run
  13. An airplane, faint and far above my head
  14. The wind rushing by my ears
  15. The wind rustling in the dead leaves that never fell off the trees this past fall
  16. Cars thumping above my head as I pass under the Lake Street Bridge
  17. The quick and unexpected laughter of a woman on a path below me
  18. Bike wheels, rapidly approaching
  19. Phantom steps from runners who seem to be gaining on me, yet never pass, managing to turn off onto another path before reaching me. The crunch of their shoes is so slight that I wonder if they even exist, or if I’m imagining them
  20. The clanging of a dog’s chain
  21. A walker talking quietly on a phone
  22. Children faintly laughing

That’s all I can remember.

Here’s a quick video I took just after finishing my run. Not the greatest quality, but effective at reminding me of what I saw when I was done running.

feb 23/10 MILES

33 degrees
mississippi river road walking path/stone arch bridge

I did it. 10 miles without stopping. I have run this distance before. I’ve even raced it four times. But doing a 10 mile training run still seems like a big deal, especially one with so many huge hills. I experimented with fueling by eating a mini pretzel starting at 30 minutes in and then every 10 minutes. That worked. Will it work during a marathon? I doubt it; that’s a lot of 10 minutes and a lot of pretzels.

Currently reading Jen A. Miller’s Running, a love story. Miller mentions Katherine Jeffers Schori, so I looked her up. In an interview with Runner’s World, Schori says this when asked if she feels running helps with her work:

Absolutely. It’s focusing for me. In my tradition we might talk about it as body prayer. It’s a meditative experience at its best. It’s a sort of emptying of the mind.

Body prayer. I like this idea. I want to learn more about it.

feb 21/4 MILES

41 degrees
mississippi river road walking path

I’m in the midst of reading Rachel Toor’s Personal Record. Just before heading out for my run, I came to her chapter, “Speed Goggles.” In it, she writes about her attraction to men who are fast runners; regardless of how they actually look (too skinny, gangly) or act (“uncivilized”), the fact that they run fast makes them attractive to her.

Toor understands going fast to be a mark of commitment and excellence, and what is necessary to be a good runner. Toor wants to be a good runner. She writes:

I have always been a good student, a type A cliché. It I was going to do something, I was going to be good at it….I was never going to jog for my health. I didn’t care all that much about my health, having always been healthy. If I needed at some point to lose weight, there were easier ways to do–starvation, say. No, with running as with all else, I wanted to be good (26).

I thought about Toor’s emphasis on being fast as I got ready to leave the house and then during my run. What do I think about speed? Do I want to be fast? Mostly, I’m taking the opposite perspective: I want to go slow. Being willing to slow down, to stop going so fast in training, is more of a mark of commitment and the willingness to focus on a bigger goal: to run longer–in a race, but in years as a runner, without stopping to walk and without injury.

I also thought about this idea of being good. What does it mean to be good at running? Is it necessarily tied to winning races or going faster and regularly achieving new PRs? If so, I guess I don’t want to be good. At least I don’t think I do. It’s complicated. I like going faster in races and I do have PR goals, but they don’t define the joy I get from running.

I feel stuck in writing this log entry. Too much to think about in terms of my dislike of competition–especially aggressive competitors– but my fear that I’m more competitive than I admit; my stubborn dedication to not being too good at things; my extreme reluctance in ever sharing my times with others, which I attribute to not wanting to brag but wonder if it has more to do with not allowing myself to be proud of my accomplishments.  

feb 20/3.2 MILES

51 degrees
mississippi river road walking path

Managed to finish running before the rain came.  Rain in February?! Was pleased with my easy run; slowing down for the past two months is working. My run seems easier and more relaxed and my heart rate isn’t getting so high. I enjoy the challenge of going slower. Fighting against pride and an investment in being fast. Cultivating humility. Relishing the run, not just rushing through it to achieve another training goal.

My marathon training, much like most things in my life, is a combination of focused dedication to building up helpful habits (in this case, running slower in order to run farther and to avoid injury) and breaking down harmful ones (like running too fast in order to be fast and to be faster than others).

Is this a combination of becoming disciplined (building up) and being undisciplined (breaking down)? With my interest in virtue ethics and the ethical effects of accumulated practices, and my virtual identity as undisciplined, I’m fascinated by this question and the difference between becoming and being here. In my training, I’m giving the edge to being undisciplined, focusing my attention on breaking bad habits and being vigilant against developing new ones that could be just as bad, or worse. This undisciplining work enables me to become disciplined–or focused, dedicated, committed?– in my practices.

 

feb 15/5.3 MILES

23 degrees/feels like 15
mississippi river road path

3 stories about the sun

one

The sun was bright today. So bright that as I ran away from it, towards the big hill on Franklin which is 1/2 mile from the bottom to the top (I measured it today), it cast my shadow and I was able to watch myself running. Which Sara-self was this runner just ahead of me? Was it Joyce Carol Oates’ “ghost-self” from To Invigorate Literary Mind, Invigorate Literary Feet, leading me to imagine new worlds and new stories and new ways of being?

two

 At the bottom of the big hill, directly facing the sun, I fumbled with my sunglasses before beginning my 1/2 mile climb. The glare, combined with the fog that had already accumulated on the glasses, blinded me and as I focused on the effort of running up the hill, I was transported to some other existence, almost floating above time and space, that cars and other runners couldn’t access.

three

 Running on the bluff, above the river, I spotted the sun shimmering on the water. It remained always just ahead of me, no matter how fast I ran, leading me to the parking lot where I end most of my runs.

feb 12/8.6 MILES

30 degrees
ford bridge and franklin bridge loops
17 mph wind

Not too bad of a run while it was happening, but I’m wiped out now that I’m done. I ran the first few miles a little faster than I should. I need to work on (almost) always starting slow in the early miles.

Towards the end of the run, felt like I was floating just above the path. Not fully outside of my body, but not quite in it either.

Almost forgot to write about the dogs:

  • Encountered at least three dogs, in two different locations, roaming–more like bounding–free, with no owners in sight
  • Witnessed two different dogs trying to bolt away from their owners, who were frantically trying to hold on to their leashes and calm the dogs down

Was it the wind and slightly warmer weather that provoked the dogs?

feb 2/4.25 MILES

16 degrees/feels like -1
minnehaha creek path/mississippi river road path
15-16 mph wind

I was a little nervous about running because my right knee seemed a bit stiff, but I did it anyway. I’m glad. It was a good run, even if my knee kept reminding me it was there.

Other than my knee and whether or not it might cause me problems, I can’t remember much of what I thought about while I was running. Just this morning, I wondered about this:

What do I think about when I’m running? I should try to remember and make a list. But, will I remember? Thinking while running is almost like dreaming. I rarely remember my dreams and even when I do I can’t recount them in any coherent way.

my thoughts while running, a list

  • Don’t slip on the ice.
  • Damn, it’s cold, but not too bad.
  • I wonder if I will be running directly into the wind for most of this run.
  • How soon before my sunglasses fog up?
  • The creek is not frozen over. That’s weird. It looks beautiful, shimmering in the sunlight.
  • Will I see anyone else running today?
  • My knee is stiff. Is this a bad sign? Am I going to injure it again and not be able to walk for a month? [then I imagined getting hurt and not being able to run my race next Saturday.]
  • [when the one other runner that I encountered passed me] Don’t speed up. Stay steady and run at your own pace.
  • This feels good.
  • [when I break out into a big smile because it feels good to run] I wonder what the drivers in the cars think when they see me running and smiling?
  • How’s my heart rate? Better check it.

That’s all I can remember. Pretty boring and mundane. No new insights on life. No new perspectives on the landscape.

I’d like to track what I think about more. I think I’ll turn this into a challenge.

feb 1/3 MILES

15 degrees/feels like 0
minnehaha creek path/mississippi river road bike path

Brrr. Welcome back cold. And burning lungs. And double gloves. And icicles in my hair. I don’t mind. I’ll take that over big gloppy puddles or snow-packed roads any day. I was worried that the sidewalks and path might be too slippery, and that I wouldn’t be able to run outside today, but it wasn’t too bad. Ran 2 out 3 of miles around 8:40 pace.

I think I saw one other runner on the path today. It probably has more to do with the time of day that I was running than the cold. Minnesota runners like running in freezing temps. Also encountered a few walkers, including one with a big dog that unsuccessfully lunged at me. Ever since my family got a dog last March, I’ve been more sympathetic to dog owners when they’re trying to control their dogs on the path, so the lunging didn’t bother me.

In general, I’m trying to chill out more about other people on the paths. I’ve realized that getting upset and nearly losing my shit every time a biker whizzes past me (either when I’m biking or running on the edge of the path) and doesn’t say “on your left” isn’t good for my well-being and doesn’t really make a difference. Or that giving a trot of runners the evil eye when they’re running towards me, taking over almost the entire path and almost forcing me into the grass or the road will probably go entirely unnoticed by those path-hogging runners. Of course, it’s easy for me to be relaxed right now, in the middle of winter, when there’s hardly anyone on the path. Let’s see how I feel about being chill in summer when the paths are congested with clueless walkers, oblivious runners and speed-demon bikers.

 

jan 31/XT

70 degrees
road bike on stand, the front room

Another bike session. 33 minutes. Watched the men’s 10000 meters from the 2012 London Olympics on YouTube. Chose it because the video was 39 minutes long and because I like watching running when I’m biking. What a great race. Not fast, but very strategic. Mo Farrah won gold, Rupp silver. Runners were bunched up for most of the race, with the announcer warning that they could easily get tripped up in such close proximity to each other. When I run in a race, I’m not usually around other runners. Most of the time, it’s deliberate. I like the solitude of running and I don’t always trust other runners. They flail their limbs, jab their elbows, spread out and block the road or dart out unexpectedly.

As I prepare for running a marathon, I wonder if this strategy of isolation is harmful.

jan 30/4 MILES

30 degrees
mississippi river road bike path

Snowed this morning. Less than an inch, but enough to cover all the sidewalks. Took Delia out for a walk before heading out for run. Partly because she needed one and partly to test how slippery it was on the sidewalks. Very slippery, it turns out. Towards the end of our walk, Delia darted after something, yanking the leash. I slipped, spun around, almost regained my balance and then fell on the ground. Very lucky to not be hurt at all. Decided to go out for my run anyway. Risky, but worth it. The sidewalk was slippery, but the bike path was not.

Had a decent run. Encountered the snow plow clearing off the path. Minneapolis Parks are the best (literally, the best) park system. They clear the river road path within a few hours after it’s stopped snowing, even faster than the city of Minneapolis clears the streets, which is pretty fast too. Love this city. And love the kick-ass park system!

podcast: How to Be Amazing, ep 48 (M Lewis’ tone seemed more arrogant than confident. Not a big fan.)

jan 29/4 MILES

25 degrees
mississippi river road bike and walking path

Another week of running done. A bit cold. Fairly windy. But, I didn’t really care. It was a nice run.

Encountered a big group of runners–I refer to these groups as “trots of runners.” Some organized run, with water stops. I’ve been thinking it might be good to try one of these runs once I’m into the serious miles, but I don’t know. I like to run by myself. To almost, but not quite, get lost in the dreamlike state when everything shifts and it’s all a bit fuzzy. I need a new word for fuzzy: out of focus? distorted? bewildered? but not disembodied, because I still feel my body. 

In Poverty Creek Journal, Gardner describes the dreamlike state in many different ways, including: “I’m hardly aware of myself, my edges grown fluid and instinct. Not real speed. No thinking. What would it take to enter this dream, to let it take me completely?”

He contrasts this dreamy state with reminders from his body…so far in my close re-reading of it, he’s discussed an aching calf. For me, it’s my right knee. The one with the bone spur. Also the one that hurt so much a few weeks after I started running over 5 years ago that I almost stopped completely. That knee keeps me from getting lost, from running too fast or with too much abandon. It doesn’t usually bother me, but it frequently haunts my runs, putting me on edge, wondering if my training will keep me injury-free.

jan 24/3.25 MILES

32 degrees
mississippi river road bike path

Almost below freezing today. It’s supposed to snow tonight, but will it? I just heard on the radio (Jazz 88) that it could be “slushy snow.” Awesome.

My run was good. Today I decided to pick up the pace, which was hard. The pace (avg. 8:15) wasn’t faster than I’ve run in the past, but since I’m running a lot slower these days (9:30-10:00 pace), it felt hard. When I run as fast as I did today, I don’t experience much. And I don’t think much, just: when will this be over? and what would happen if I slowed way down or stopped?

I’ve been running slower since mid December. I decided to try it out because I’ve been having difficulty for years being “trained up” enough for my longer races, like the 10 mile or 1/2 marathon. I run too fast when I train and have difficulty running long distances or sustaining lots of miles for more than a few weeks.

I thought running slow would be hard. With a fairly steady pace of 8:30-8:40 for over three years, I couldn’t imagine running 1 to 1.5 minutes slower. Physically it seemed difficult and mentally it seemed impossible.

But it’s not. It’s actually great. And I don’t even care when other people pass me. I’m enjoying the running more and recovering faster.

As the weeks and months go by, I’ll see if running slow helps me run longer and stronger…and maybe even faster. Initially, it felt wrong and scary. What if I slow down and can’t ever run fast enough? Is running this slow doing anything? But it’s starting to make sense.

I like when I can break a bad habit (running too fast) and start building up a new one (slower and stronger).

an afterthought: Rereading this entry, I have an immediate reaction: Ugh, this log is pretty boring. I wonder, why am I writing such boring accounts of my running? But then I remember that part of this project is to be more honest in how I express myself. Guess what? My running self is boring and mundane and fixates on specific habits and practices. And that’s okay.

jan 22/4 MILES

36 degrees
mississippi river road bike path/lake street bridge

It was nice to run over the Lake street bridge. In the winter, the path on the bridge is often icy, so I usually try to avoid it. But, with the warmer weather, everything has melted. The bridge was clear. Weird. I keep having to remind myself that it’s only January and that we have a lot of winter left.

I didn’t think about much while I was running. This makes for a boring blog post about my run, but a welcome respite from my constant thinking during the rest of my day. It’s nice not to think.

jan 17/XT

70 degrees
road bike on stand, the front room

XT = Cross Training. Biked for 30 minutes today while watching the men’s marathon from the Rio Olympics on YouTube.

Biking for 30 minutes on a stand, in the front room, seems like it would be tedious. And it has been in past winters. I’m not sure why it’s easier this year. It’s ironic that I’m biking more this winter now that I’m not planning to do any big triathlons this summer–just a super sprint with my 11 year old daughter in August.

Biking with Best’s?

I’ve struggled with biking lately, even before I was diagnosed this past August with Best’s disease (vitelliform macular dystrophy). I’ve had trouble seeing the path when it was too sunny or some cars when I was trying to cross the road or bikers approaching me on the path. When I learned that my central vision was seriously fucked up and that I couldn’t see those things because my rods and cones were scrambled, I lost the little bit of confidence I had in biking with any speed. How can I race in a triathlon if there’s a chance I won’t see another biker or a pothole or anything else that first appears in the parts of my central vision that are already totally scrambled?

 

jan 15/7.12 MILES

23 degrees
mississippi river road bike path

Technically I was supposed to run 8 miles today, but I’m okay with 7.12. 8 was a bit ambitious and would have made my running total for the week just slightly too much. Plus, I’m proud of myself for running as much as I did. My route included two monster hills and I managed to run up both of them at a steady pace without dying…or worse, stopping to walk.

I’m mostly kidding about the walking. I can see all sorts of reasons why walking during a training run or a race would be a good idea. For me, right now, walking is a bad idea. Stopping to walk in past runs/races encouraged me to run too fast. My goal right now is to run slow and steady and to not stop.

As I was running, I listened to the final chapters of Murakami’s What I Talk About When I Talk About Running. He hates walking and considers doing it during a race to be a failure. So much so that at the end of the book he describes what he wants his tombstone to read: “At least he never walked.” I’m not sure what to make of that line and of Murakami’s hard and fast refusal to ever walk. Is it too rigid? A bit arrogant? Just a personal goal that he doesn’t apply to (and use to judge) others?