I've spent the last 30 days or so completely modifying the biomechanics of my running. light shoes, light steps, light feet, an altered landing, an altered posture. it's reached that point where I've deconstructed my running but my body hasn't yet learned the new patterns by heart. every run feels like I have no idea how to run.
my feet hurt.
cardiovascularly -- a word I think I just made up -- I've reached a place where my runs feel easy, but my legs are slow to catch up. the biomechanical reorganizing doesn't help. this is the danger zone, where the engine is stronger than the chassis; where I want faster faster faster but the infrastructure is not in place.
sometimes I need reminding: there is time.
at work there is one last push before the season ends: a score built from scratch for the last opera. in the ground, the crocuses emerge. it's been grey again. I dream of loving reunions with old friends. I do the dishes in a timely way. my hair grows long. the horse's hair falls out all over everything. slowly, the evenings take longer to fade.
on valentine's day mike surprised me by flying across the country to give me a kiss. any boyfriends I've had before this have been rendered irrelevant.
February 10, 2014
maybe you've heard that the pacific northwest has joined the rest of the nation and has been having some Weather. most of us have been more or less housebound since midday on thursday, trapped by snow and a lot of ice in a town unused to experiencing it. I like portland because we just shut the fuck down when shit gets snowy. it's like being a kid again: most businesses close and everyone's at home drinking cocoa (or booze) and watching movies, going outside to build ridiculous snowmen, sledding down nearby hills. there's solidarity. traffic is sparse. there was even a ski race downtown.
on days 38 and 39 of my running streak (oh btw I am on another running streak), I ran in gaiters and ski mittens out in the snow. I grinned like an idiot that first day, with the sun out and the air crisp and everything powdery and clean. on saturday the weather was already turning when I left the house, so the trip was much more blustery and kind of painful, snow driving sideways into my face. but I chatted briefly with some girls who'd hiked out for coffee, and when I rounded the corner to my house, the guys at the tire place nearby (who I'm sure have noticed the frequency with which I run by) cheered me on. on day 40 everything was covered in almost an inch of ice and so after some weighing of my options I ended up measuring out the length of my apartment (28 feet, rounded down to 25 to be safe) and ran it 300 times. that's about 1.4 miles. ice, you ain't stoppin me.
snow days: reading books, watching tv, cleaning, cooking, spending far too much time online, swapping long voice messages with my bff on whatsapp, running the heater seemingly without pause. looking out the window at the snow. knitting. playing too much candy crush. (that game is a fucking extortion racket but I can't. stop. playing.) feeling all the while like somehow there is a better way to relax. snacking constantly, running out of my favorite foods. unwilling to walk even the half-block to the convenience store, mostly because I feel sorry for the people there who have to work.
we have off again today -- it's beginning to rain but even slicker than before, rain on top of ice. I no longer know what day it is and have reverted to a feral state.
by the end of the day it will be 40 degrees and just plain rain. rain rain rain, all week long. welcome back, portland. it will be good to leave the house. somehow we have to move three timpani from the theater to the opera today. the timpanist and I are waiting for better friction on the roads. I have so much shopping to do. I have forgotten what regular clothes feel like. the snow days have mostly been strange and quiet and luxurious, a respite from normal life, a sanctuary of fuzzy blankets and olympics news and pancakes.
at 10:10 AM