The Metropolis and Mental Life
Didn't run Wednesday. That day my tendons, on the inside and outside of my calves, were feeling sore - with a low grade burning sensation running up and down my leg. Then yesterday Thanksgiving was at my house, a wonderful menagerie of family, friends and food; and getting a run in between all the prep would have taken much more of an effort than it was worth given that I would probably benefit more from the rest.
But today, after the family left and the house was relatively clean again, I put on my running shoes and set out in the early afternoon. Didn't make it to 47th St. before my left (i.e., good) ankle turned somewhat. I was quickly able to recover, like I usually will, but it scared me as I thought were it the other ankle it could have been disaster. Never got to feeling comfortable after that. My whole right leg felt bad, not in a its-coming-down-with-an-injury kind of way (like a burning sensation in the tendon would be) but in a it-just-doesn't-feel-good-today kind of way. I ran out Pine Street to Cobbs Creek, and had the iPod on outside for the first time since I hurt my ankle.
All of that stuff put together was not a good combination. I just felt uneasy, my stride never felt smooth, and I became aware of all of the things one must tend to in urban running - with one eye on traffic, one eye on the road surface, and the third eye just aware of surroundings and ready to react to whatever may present itself. A car turning right onto Pine from 57th St. and my eyes locked onto the driver's face. I know she would never even see me and sure enough she turned right at me, causing me to step aside with my knee-jerk arms-out WTF gesture. I imagine these super-individual contents of the metropolis to further reduce my proprioceptive integrity in a Simmelian fashion - had old Georg run the streets of early 20th century Berlin.
By the time I hit Cobbs Creek I modified my original plans to run down to Warrington and instead came back east on Cedar Ave., like this. I just wasn't feeling it today, and would have kicked myself if I made a misstep. Its curious how making such a decision involves so many facets of me - my moods, biofeedback, and the superego who just demands I run my original route are all screaming out and from somewhere an element of moderation points them all toward consensus.
And thus the 3.5 miles in 32:32.
But today, after the family left and the house was relatively clean again, I put on my running shoes and set out in the early afternoon. Didn't make it to 47th St. before my left (i.e., good) ankle turned somewhat. I was quickly able to recover, like I usually will, but it scared me as I thought were it the other ankle it could have been disaster. Never got to feeling comfortable after that. My whole right leg felt bad, not in a its-coming-down-with-an-injury kind of way (like a burning sensation in the tendon would be) but in a it-just-doesn't-feel-good-today kind of way. I ran out Pine Street to Cobbs Creek, and had the iPod on outside for the first time since I hurt my ankle.
All of that stuff put together was not a good combination. I just felt uneasy, my stride never felt smooth, and I became aware of all of the things one must tend to in urban running - with one eye on traffic, one eye on the road surface, and the third eye just aware of surroundings and ready to react to whatever may present itself. A car turning right onto Pine from 57th St. and my eyes locked onto the driver's face. I know she would never even see me and sure enough she turned right at me, causing me to step aside with my knee-jerk arms-out WTF gesture. I imagine these super-individual contents of the metropolis to further reduce my proprioceptive integrity in a Simmelian fashion - had old Georg run the streets of early 20th century Berlin.
By the time I hit Cobbs Creek I modified my original plans to run down to Warrington and instead came back east on Cedar Ave., like this. I just wasn't feeling it today, and would have kicked myself if I made a misstep. Its curious how making such a decision involves so many facets of me - my moods, biofeedback, and the superego who just demands I run my original route are all screaming out and from somewhere an element of moderation points them all toward consensus.
And thus the 3.5 miles in 32:32.
posted by seebo | 6:20 PM
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