Running Commentary

I started this post day before yesterday--must get it done and out of the way! My idea was just to post all my recent photos and then see if I could think of anything to say regarding them. In pondering these photos, and by extension the meaning of running in my life, I find it relevant to note that a high percentage of my running is done at dawn. How I love the gift of a brand new day. Two weekends ago Z and I went down south to visit my sons. I've yet to find any good trails in the flats of Burbank, where we stay, but I do enjoy running there nevertheless. (The Chandler Bike Trail doesn't count for me because it's concrete--too hard for these old bones to run on for long.) The above photo of the lovely Burbank water treatment plant was taken from a freeway overpass; the one below was taken in anticipation of my post-run reward--a big breakfast at the Coral Cafe. Flowers. In our front yard. One time I heard "blue food" defined as something of a color "not fo...

Taken on the Iron Horse Trail (see below). Not sure what it is, but I think it qualifies as "urban." I made it out three times this last week, and today (Sunday) have tried to spare my knee by taking a bike ride (look at me--cross-training, yet). This week, in honor of being in the middle of reading Coming to Our Senses , as I ran I tried to take in my surroundings with a nonjudgmental awareness. No saying "gee, that's pretty" or "yuck, look at that." In honor of my attempts at mindfulness, which were only partially successful, I have here a few images that show a real and ever-present side of urban running that's not usually apparent in the photos I take that are so dear to me of flowers, trees, and skies . This is a curb that runs along a parking lot I often run by. It's of interest not for its aesthetic qualities but for its status as my personal balance beam, which I've used over the months to the point that I can actually now run (not...

Along the Lafayette-Moraga Trail I'm trying these to get the hang of making my posts more specific. As in, here's what I did, here's where I was, here's how I view what I did and where I was and, just maybe, here's why I view everything the way I do. Tuesday morning and Thursday mornings I was on my usual path, along the Ohlone Greenway and down through Albany under the BART tracks and to the El Cerrito border (Brighton Street) and then home again (see previous post). Yesterday morning I went to the other side of the hill , where I met with some fellow running club members for a run that started in Moraga. People ran various distances--I just went out for 40 minutes and then turned around and came back. Coming back took 42 minutes. Hey, it's uphill. The Lafayette-Moraga Trail passes by many backyards. The day was damp--there was rain before the run and rain after, but no rain on me (no flies, either). I figure I went about 7.25 miles. It was lovely to be on that...

Two days, two runs, along virtually identical courses--the first run failing to dispel the mental miasma of predawn anxiety, the second feeling effortless and joyful-- a romp (did some skipping! ran backwards!). My experience, 30-plus years of it, has confirmed in me the belief that the nature of a run, like the nature of a baseball game, can never be predicted with any certainty. Yesterday, did about 5.25 miles under a rosy sky (see above). Threw in five intervals of speed along the way, just to see if I might outrun my blues. Nothing doing. Tried to see with what I think of as my photographer's eye, that is, an eye that finds details and if they seem interesting tries to capture them in a way that reveals why they are interesting. Not much doing there either, really--see below (that's a mark on the pavement to show painters where to place the symbol of a bicyclist). Today, did about 5.25 miles under a leaden sky. Rain on the way? Rumor has it so. No speed, just a bit of fris...