August 28, 2005

The Five Senses

I know it's going to be a difficult run when I can see the air.

Went for 7 today; got in 7.75 - a little far, but better underestimate the route initially than over. Good for the stones.

There are many things to be experienced on a long run, and my senses were alive this morning, noticing the little things, like air so humid it hangs as a haze over the park and in between the buildings.

The dripping leaves so green that when the sun came out briefly, the green hurt my eyes. The girl who was a good runner, but who had to drop to a walk a few times as the humidity fought her, her shirt a pale lavender, darkened in two broad bands across her back with sweat, her capri-cut sweats soaked from the waist to the knee. Her, I pitied. I didn't have it easy; but she was really working.

The bright orange cones stacked on the guy's cart as he trolled by picking them up, stacked signs saying "Bicycle Race This Morning" sharing space. The group of runners, maybe 15 of them, startling me as I crested the big hill, hanging out getting organized for....?

It's so quiet on Sunday mornings. Truck rumbles I wouldn't usually hear a block away, are now apparent six blocks away. Voices carry further, and now everybody pants and grunts when they run, not just me. The pad-pad-pad of my feet on pavement is still alone though; I don't hear other people's footsteps. Squirrels chattering at me as I pass their trees, parents talking to their kids as they set up the barbecue grills in optimistic defiance of the weather forecast. My coughing. It sounds to me like it echos from the pavement and the trees and rocks. Surely, everyone must hear my coughing.

Hot, humid weather creates many smells, many of which gag me as I pass through them. Decaying organic matter in the gutters, horse smell on the bridal path. Fresh, clean air blown across the park while on the big hill, something slightly briny, too. Warm smoky smell from the grills, whether from yesterday's fires or the beginnings of today's, I don't know. Coffee. My own odor in the last few miles, coming from my shoulders.

I can't wait for winter, when all the smells are cold-suppressed save one: the pine trees on the west end of the park. They will spread their scent for a half mile - I can smell them before I see them.

I start out this morning in a light rain; it pelts my forehead as I make my way through Carroll Gardens and let's up as I head uphill towards the park. Mostly I feel my lungs today; every bronchiol, every alveoli begs me to slow down; I promise them I'll double up on my antibiotics for a while and maybe call my doctor on Monday. My feet feel great, my heart, my legs feel great, my knee tendons aren't so happy; they throb at first, as I warm-up, like a pulsing yellow traffic light, warning me to go slow. I feel them stretch slowly and stop complaining. My arms are wet, slick. Other days, I end up grainy from sweated salt after a run; not today. My bottle is also slick, from my own sweat, not condensation. The iron railing at home is rough under my hand as I stretch out and cool down; I leave a patch of wet railing wherever I touch.

Most significant today was what I could taste. Humidity has a way of magnifying the tastes of things, particularly the taste of odors. Sweat. Horse. Sweat. Garbage truck. Sweat. Bagels. Sweat. Sweat on my upper lip. Salty taste on the nipple of my bottle as I tug on it with my teeth; snapping it closed with my hand leaves salt behind. My powergel tastes thick, almost repulsive, even in my favorite flavor, the HEED is more palatable. I've mixed it just right today; it is neither too weak, nor too strong; it tastes just right and is not gritty.

It has been a good run; I am overwhelmed. I am wet. I had to work hard at this run, just to keep going, but I was able to run faster and faster, finally achieving a decent long-run pace, rather than the slow survival shuffle I started with. The miles didn't feel too long, the hills didn't feel too steep.

The shower felt g-r-e-a-t.

2 comments:

About Me: said...

what a beautiful post. i felt like i was running along with you. i love new york but have thought running there, well, not sure how i'd like it. but it's such a stunning city, and you describe your run down the streets so aptly. nice job, nice run.

and i am always thinking people are listning to my grunts, my panting, what i look like when i run. but i think maybe people are more involved in thinking how other runners are thinking about how they look in their run, their clothes...;-)

Cris said...

thanks for the compliment! running in the city definitely fiills the senses; watch out for that car!