The Doldrums. - There is an area of the ocean called the Intertropical Convergence Zone. It sounds complicated and terribly exotic but isn't really. It is the region rou...
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Evening run, post storm
Clouds rode horses or maybe they were tumbled bowling pins. They brought wind and obstinate thunder and flung branches and leaves down the street.
Luckily I left the truck windows down so I stood on the street, face to the wind, rain starting to fall, watching the circus arrive.
I don't run in the evenings, but it worked out that way. The storm pushed the heat from the ledge and the townspeople were coming out to identify the body of their former oppressor.
I say hello to everyone I pass by on a run. The shared smiles lighten the legs, I'm convinced, but that's not the reason.
J Dilla's "Donuts" is loud on the iPod, but not to block out sound, rather to stoke a shared journey. It's Dilla's opus--an album released three days before his death and that he worked to perfect, even from his hospital bed. It's a musical, spiritual journey, whose beats, rhythms, samples accompany and inhabit and send you. Each song may be like pulling a different donut from a box.
Dilla's vibes, the cool air, the puddles along the rail trail, the families and kids and dogs, all blend together as the heart rate climbs and sweat rolls.
Coming across Goldsborough Street, I think of sitting in the car as a kid and watching freight trains click by on this same path. I'm not that fast going by, or noisy, and cars don't generally stop.
My best runs are negative splits--I speed up as the run goes on, but that's been tougher with the heat and a lack of solid runs this summer. Today, thanks to storm, thanks to Dilla, thanks to trail greetings it all works and I finish spent but strong.
I walk inside, smiling and sweat covered, looking for coconut water, and Robin asks, "how was your run?"