On Running
I went running last night, between essay writing, dinner, and more writing. I ran down Juneau and then back up, the rain started just as I got to Juneau and Astor. I thought, briefly, of going home. No, the rain was exhilarating! I met other runners, as the water poured from the sky, but I felt all alone, just my body pushing against the ground and fighting against the driving rain. How wonderful.
I was wearing yoga pants and a full t-shirt which soaked up the rain, adding easily another 5lbs to my body as I ran. I pushed through the park on Prospect by the War Museum, then down the running trail along Lincoln Memorial drive, the water sloshing and flying with every step. I got to the steps by Prospect and Ogden and thought about heading home, but the trail ahead was running muddy with water and calling my name. I pushed on, the people in their cars pointing at me from their dry interiors. I became covered in mud, it trickled down my wet shirt front as my clothes clung to my frame. I was molded into my clothes. At the new bridge over Memorial they're rebuilding from Prospect and Brady to the lake, the rain stopped, giving me my second rainbow arching beautifully over the lake in less then 15 minutes. I turned back, exhausted, dizzy, weighted down by wet, weary clothing. If I'd had the energy, I'd have laughed- a laugh of pure enjoyment, sheer exuberance for being out on the green green trails covered in mud and feeling every muscle in my body zing. Oh, sweet wood, how I longed to linger beneath your leafy canopy!
On the way back, I walked, too unused to running from too many months of excuses for putting it off. Why do I always put it off when I know how it makes me feel in the end? At the steps up to Ogden and Prospect, i sat down as the rain poured forth once more. the waterfall cascading down the steps splashed over my frame, bending me forward against the onslaught. I grinned and laughed as being so wet. A little girl once again, sitting in the mud puddles, giggling at the water oozing into my pants, the mud caking my face, hair, and clothing. Oh! How often does one get to connect to those pure moments of childhood, when the world was simpler and all one had to worry about was mother yelling at the mess you'd made as you walked through the kitchen afterwords? There was no one home to exclaim as I walked in, dripping and dropping my clothes as I stripped. I slowly took it all off, standing nude in front of my open windows. I was hungry, a real hunger, and oh so exhilarated to be alive.
I had but 40 minutes before I thought I had to leave for my doctor's appointment at 1:30. instead of making excuses, and with yesterday fresh in my mind, I took my running shorts out for the first time since September(not counting when I used them in Rockford in December). I set a goal for myself that should have met my time restraints- down the large hill on Juneau to Water and back again, twice. The run down was smooth, keeping a near steady rhythm [breath, breath, breath, release, breath, breath, release, repeat] as gravity pulled me ever faster down the steep incline. Then I turned to run up the hill. I pushed, lung heaving, feet pounding, the feeling of going nowhere fast. I made it over the first hump when my body demanded a slow down. I paced ever upward, grinding my feet into the pavement. At the base of the second hump, I once again pushed myself, feet pounding, pounding, pounding up the hill. So many people out today to see me succeed- or fail. At the flat place between humps two and three, I slowed, a fast walk, arms swinging as i contemplated a new musical device. The rain last night didn't seem to helps its already poor performance(despite having tucked the radio into my underwear, under my shorts and t-shirt, at the first sprinkle of rain drops.) I ran the last hump of the hill at as close to full force as I could, people hopping out of my way as I labored past, my breath heavy. At the top of the hill, I paused to look down the long valley, down to the Pabst sign far below, the trees blooming, people milling about, cars zooming past. Ahhh...my city, alive and vibrant in the hot afternoon sun. If I'd have had the breath, I would have thrown my head back and laughed at the joy of it all. Instead, I set off back down the hill. wash, rinse, repeat.
At home, I staggered in, soaked with sweat, sun block applied earlier that morning running into my eyes, muscles protesting the 4 flights of stairs up to my apartment door. I felt alive.
I'd only been gone 25 minutes.
I was wearing yoga pants and a full t-shirt which soaked up the rain, adding easily another 5lbs to my body as I ran. I pushed through the park on Prospect by the War Museum, then down the running trail along Lincoln Memorial drive, the water sloshing and flying with every step. I got to the steps by Prospect and Ogden and thought about heading home, but the trail ahead was running muddy with water and calling my name. I pushed on, the people in their cars pointing at me from their dry interiors. I became covered in mud, it trickled down my wet shirt front as my clothes clung to my frame. I was molded into my clothes. At the new bridge over Memorial they're rebuilding from Prospect and Brady to the lake, the rain stopped, giving me my second rainbow arching beautifully over the lake in less then 15 minutes. I turned back, exhausted, dizzy, weighted down by wet, weary clothing. If I'd had the energy, I'd have laughed- a laugh of pure enjoyment, sheer exuberance for being out on the green green trails covered in mud and feeling every muscle in my body zing. Oh, sweet wood, how I longed to linger beneath your leafy canopy!
On the way back, I walked, too unused to running from too many months of excuses for putting it off. Why do I always put it off when I know how it makes me feel in the end? At the steps up to Ogden and Prospect, i sat down as the rain poured forth once more. the waterfall cascading down the steps splashed over my frame, bending me forward against the onslaught. I grinned and laughed as being so wet. A little girl once again, sitting in the mud puddles, giggling at the water oozing into my pants, the mud caking my face, hair, and clothing. Oh! How often does one get to connect to those pure moments of childhood, when the world was simpler and all one had to worry about was mother yelling at the mess you'd made as you walked through the kitchen afterwords? There was no one home to exclaim as I walked in, dripping and dropping my clothes as I stripped. I slowly took it all off, standing nude in front of my open windows. I was hungry, a real hunger, and oh so exhilarated to be alive.
I had but 40 minutes before I thought I had to leave for my doctor's appointment at 1:30. instead of making excuses, and with yesterday fresh in my mind, I took my running shorts out for the first time since September(not counting when I used them in Rockford in December). I set a goal for myself that should have met my time restraints- down the large hill on Juneau to Water and back again, twice. The run down was smooth, keeping a near steady rhythm [breath, breath, breath, release, breath, breath, release, repeat] as gravity pulled me ever faster down the steep incline. Then I turned to run up the hill. I pushed, lung heaving, feet pounding, the feeling of going nowhere fast. I made it over the first hump when my body demanded a slow down. I paced ever upward, grinding my feet into the pavement. At the base of the second hump, I once again pushed myself, feet pounding, pounding, pounding up the hill. So many people out today to see me succeed- or fail. At the flat place between humps two and three, I slowed, a fast walk, arms swinging as i contemplated a new musical device. The rain last night didn't seem to helps its already poor performance(despite having tucked the radio into my underwear, under my shorts and t-shirt, at the first sprinkle of rain drops.) I ran the last hump of the hill at as close to full force as I could, people hopping out of my way as I labored past, my breath heavy. At the top of the hill, I paused to look down the long valley, down to the Pabst sign far below, the trees blooming, people milling about, cars zooming past. Ahhh...my city, alive and vibrant in the hot afternoon sun. If I'd have had the breath, I would have thrown my head back and laughed at the joy of it all. Instead, I set off back down the hill. wash, rinse, repeat.
At home, I staggered in, soaked with sweat, sun block applied earlier that morning running into my eyes, muscles protesting the 4 flights of stairs up to my apartment door. I felt alive.
I'd only been gone 25 minutes.