walk: 20 minutes
neighborhood with Delia the dog
Went out for a brief walk through the neighborhood and listened to the birds. I love the sounds of birds, especially in the winter. Lots of chattering, making it feel warmer than it was. Then I heard the rapid knocking of the woodpecker. It echoed down the block. Passing under a tree, I heard a strange sound. Was it a bird, or a squirrel? I’m not sure. Did I see any of the birds that I heard? I don’t think so.
Ran at the track in the afternoon with Scott. We didn’t run together, but at the same time. I intended to listen to music, but I forgot the extra dongle I need for my headphones. Oh well, running without music was fine. In fact, I liked it. Hearing my feet striking the track, the basketball shoes down below squeaking on the gym floor, the battle ropes forcefully striking the ground. Did I think about anything? I can’t remember much. I do recall thinking about my form — keeping my shoulders relaxed — and noticing the time every few laps. Can i think of 10 other things?
10 Things I Noticed
- a man boxing in the corner — I could hear him hit the punching back, see it swinging back and forth
- when I first got there a tall man in a blue shirt was running. Later, he stopped running and was walking
- a man in dark sweatpants and a tan shirt, or was it a dark shirt and tan sweatpants?, was running and working hard. As I passed him, I could hear his jagged breathing
- a blur below — a guy sprinting on the track
- a woman in black, walking and veering into the middle
- 2 different sets of walkers, talking and slowly traveling around the track
- someone on a spin bike in corner
- a man sitting on a bench by the door –were they watching me as I ran by?
- a runner in a white t-shirt and black running tights, looking relaxed
- near the end of the run, someone was pushing the heavy sled in the corner
While drinking my coffee this morning, I found this video abut Ice Swimming. I’m not interested in trying it out, although I wouldn’t mind swimming in an outdoor pool in the winter.
note: I’m adding this poem in a few days later because it fits with the video.
Cold Shock Response/Anna Swanson
Note: All words (with the exception of title) transcribed from garbage found in the Cape Broyle swimming hole, NL.
mouthfuls. No skill or aim,
only appetite in gloves of slush.
Gasp, we grab at the air
before asking, Is there air?
Alight with cold, classroom
potassium dropped in water.
Blood, punching. Our old code
calling. We gasp, cold bells
that cannot stop ringing.
Love that line about being cold bells that can’t stop ringing! A few months ago, I put together a page on my “How to Be” project over at Undisciplined. It was “How to be…a bell.” I included several poems and songs and passages about bells. Unfortunately that page was erased and I haven’t tried to recreate it. If I do, I’ll add this poem to it.