smart way to jog

GW

lazy sundays

i've had the best intentions to be out doing a long run right now. i also need to work on monologues and memorizing for rehearsals. i could even be cleaning the apartment.

instead Chui and i have spent the last nearly two hours organizing my itunes library. rather, i've been fixing itunes while Chui drapes herself over me, pinning me to floor.

mostly i'm dreaming about africa, as mother and john just flew into moshi. i wish i was with them!

saddies.

toxic rain

obviously this is not my picture as i am not this awesome--but we had another crazy storm here in the city. yet again i got caught in the rain, but thankfully it was only for a moment after grabbing drinks with a friend and not while running. a man died in NJ after he and 3 of his friends were struck by lightening and a cricket player in brooklyn was seriously injured. A witness in brooklyn said: "His pants were burned. His tongue was out of his mouth and his eyes were rolled back in his head."ew. sucks.

the rain only slightly delayed the new york triathlon. i saw the swimming end as i ran home on friday. i think the idea of a triathlon is great and maybe would be fun. except... i thought we weren't supposed to swim in this water? you're certainly not supposed to eat the fish all those people are always catching because they are too toxic. then there are the children who jump in the water's edge and send adults yelping in all directions.

so to swim a triathlon through the hudson...?

the city hawks

running home yesterday, i was rocking out to my music, thinking about the weekend when i noticed something in one of the kid parks...


they are little blurry from my phone's camera, hard to focus-- but still pretty cool.
just sittin' there. chillin.

didn't drown today.

alright. so yes at a brief glance it would appear that it was going to be a rainy day today. however, fridays have become my day to get in a 12 mile run and i really hate to loose that. welcome, my friend, to the magic of weather.com's radar satellite. on this nifty little site you have you can play forecaster with all your local weatherman's tools. the best part is you can watch several hours into the future, following the blobs of clouds against your map. which means genius me was able to map out today that leaving work at 4:50 should give me a window of 2 hours at least before those pesky green and yellow blobs brought rain down on me. perfect!

ah. bargaining with... Zeus? well, it started out well. bright and sunny, if a bit muggy. thinking of my precious time gap, i thought it best to pick up my pace a bit. so i threw on next to normal--yes, i know i have sworn off listening to this crazy music, but for running it is surprisingly inspiring--and rocked out.

that's right. i admit to singing loudly between my puffing. i'll have you know it is a talent. besides, everyone wears earphones these days or is talking on their cells. and i'm not the weirdest person out on the path.

it wasn't until about mile 5 that things began to look ominous. across the river into jersey it was peculiarly dark. and the wind had picked up to an eye-squinting blow that made running like fighting against one of those workout jet mini pools . however, i had faith in my studious reading of the maps and was sure the storm would stay over there for at least an hour. ha. ha.

truthfully, i don't mind running in the rain. yeah you end up a bedraggled, wet rat, with your clothes sticking to you, but it is kinda nice, as long as your ipod is safely covered with a handy ziplock bag, especially compared to blistering heat. plus, running in the rain always makes me think of running up kilimanjaro with john. rain over new york smells surprisingly similar in that first burst to rain in tanzania.

it was when the rain suddenly turned horizontal that things became bad. just how does rain fall horizontally anyhow? huge pellets piercing my left side, biting into my eyes and ears till i was running with a hand at my face just so i could see the step in front of me.

then came the lightening. what does one do when one is far away from shelter in a lightening storm? and i'm not talking just flashes. i'm talking about clear distinct bolts. bright blue, splitting the sky all around me. each time one rent the air, burning on my retina, i jumped and yelped like a schoolgirl. and the real ridiculous part, i'd leap backwards, as if dodging a foot behind would save me if one of those electric spikes came down in front of me.

in spite of the storm raging, i kept my headphones in and turned up the volume. now this may sound foolish, however, did you not read of the girl who survived 300,000 volts because the charge went through her ipod wire, saving her vital organs?? just last week?? well i did. and those bolts were freaking big. and right above me. and though cars crept by me on the freeway, i remember from my youth that lightning is supposed to bounce off car tires or something.

it did occur to me that it would be the height of irony to be struck by lightning while rocking out to next to normal--Alice Ripley is belting out her electroshock therapy and i fall down crisp. it would be a fitting end to my last two weeks.

despite all my self indulgent musings on the effectiveness of electroshock therapy to cure one's foul mood, the thought of looking straight into one of those bolts was putting a bit of the fear of god in me. i played an electrocuted patient once for a doctor exam. they bruised me up all over then bloodied up my ears, where my eardrums i guess had burst, blackened up my hands, where the bolt supposedly entered, and bloodied up my feet where the burst was supposed to have exited. cool in makeup. not cool in actual burning flesh.

i admitted momentary stalemate by mile 7 and huddled under a tree for a good ten minutes, still leaping at the increasing light display. was i actually saving myself at all under this sad little bush of a tree on the shore of the exploding hudson river? i have no idea.

though the rain didn't let up much, the lightning seemed to move a bit further into the city and i took off again.

why is it that playing in rainstorms or defying your parents by leaping through ocean waves in the middle of a storm is only exhilarating, with barely even a hint that you might actually suffer? by the end of my 12 miles, i was running by children playing in the water while their parents huddled under plastic sheets. true, the rain was much kinder, but the occasional bolt, like an afterthought, still had me leaping backwards--a funny syncopated jog.

does the worry come from being older and wiser? i don't know. i don't have any storm wisdom. or is it the responsibility itself that creates the fear? as a child, the stormy ocean was thrilling--because, even if i wanted to ignore them, subconsciously it was ultimately my parents' fault if i got struck down? out there by yourself, well you've got no one to blame but you. you have to find the escape route, come up with the death-defying plan.

"sheild eyes with hand and out run storm" isn't much of a plan.

run forest

run forest

i love my windows. they look eastward, over the city. below me are a handful of trees! i look over their golden leaves at the buildings in the distance. the sun rises behind an apartment building a bit a way. despite the "blackout" shades, the sun can light my whole room about 20 minutes after it rises. i love the sunrise, so why bother trying to hide it? i leave my shades pulled open all the time. unless it is a particularly cloudy morning, the sun pierces through my dreams, heating me awake.

the sky was crystal clear with the sunrise this morning. i am much too lazy to get up with the sun, but i do roll over and stare. it looked like a beautiful day for my long run. sadly, the clouds rolled in before i got my rear in motion. now the sky is painted over with clouds and the sun is hidden. i'll still pull myself together in a moment, it just won't be so warm.

it is hard to throw myself out of the apartment to run. i can find so many other things to do. but once i am out there, the river lifts my heart.

new york is a paved bubble of society, a little world in its snow globe, fitting for a philip k. dick story. you walk and live in it, separate from the rest of the world. you can go months without touching the earth.

running along the river, it's though i'm running along a tear in the bubble wall. the rip in the seam, where nature bubbles up, churns, seeps in from earth below.

i love this website: USATF, where you can chart your paths, see the mileage and the elevation. when i can put my clothes on, this is what i'll do today: today's run

marathon man

marathon man

i made it back to ny just in time for the marathon!
what are you, crazy? i didn't mean for me. for now, i'll leave that business to ms. holmes-cruise. (though next year... sorely tempted...)



which should make me more nervous? alone, no cell phone, gasp-a girl: running through the coffee fields, straight up the mountain, seemingly deserted for miles
or running along the waterfront, through construction, through tunnels, seemingly deserted for, well, blocks?

am i safer for being in the west? for being in a big city? one has unmentionable rape percentages, the other has enough women on the island to spread the percentages out. one is shrouded by the veil of dark africa, the other is lit by CSI and Law and Order plot lines.

today the river was beautiful. and i could breath a little easier (clearly not running fast enough) and i ran farther along the bank than i ever have before.

but no one ran out to greet me, to smack my hand, or even to laugh and call me in for a drink.
the path was smooth, no ankle weary pock marks. the hill was non existent. at any time i could have run inland and found a subway. but no one cared if i was there. no one cared if a ran. no one waited at home.

my happy place

what i see from a solo run

In the quiet of the shadow
In the corner of a room
Darkness moves upon you
Like a cloud across the moon

You're a-wearing all the silence
Of a constant that will turn
Like the windmill left deserted
Or the sun forever burn

So don't forget to breathe
Don't forget to breathe
Your whole life is here
No eleventh hour reprieve
So don't forget to breathe

 Keep your head above water
But don't forget to breathe

 And all the suffering that you've witnessed
And the hand prints on the wall
They remind you how it's endless
How endlessly you fall

 And the answer that you're seeking
For the question that you found
Drives you further to confusion
As you lose your sense of ground

 So don't forget to breathe
Don't forget to breathe
Your whole life is here
No eleventh hour reprieve
So don't forget to breathe

 Keep your head above water
But don't forget to breathe

Breathe....
~alexi murdoch

run away! run away!

run away! run away!

i am so mzee (old).
i have been running every day and running at least a half marathon on the weekends. sadly, my old body is rebelling a bit. shin splints have been threatening me for weeks now. i can't bare to stop running all together, so i ice continually and try to forget about it... then there is the numbness in my toes and hip aches from the sciatic nerve... and most recently a twist in my ankle from running on the crevices in the "roads." it is really sad. i never used to be so achey. i'd like to think it is from running outdoors in the "wild" as opposed to the hermetically sealed NY Sports Club.

i went through three years of grad school fighting, running, lifting weights, yoga, tumbling around, and attempting to throw myself into walls, among other things and managed to emerge without debilitating myself. clearly, i should be devoting more time to robin's "dynamics."

olympians

olympians

my fav flower, i wish i could rub the smell all over me:

i ran the marathon path all by my lonesome this weekend!  john is extremely busy trying to finish a new grant application before the 11th and unfortunately needed to skip the long run this weekend.  i drug myself out of bed, tossed on some clothes, had some litchi juice, and had at it.  though i was a bit slower during the first half, i am impressed that i actually kept running without anyone waiting for me.

in general, one should not run alone here, especially on the rural paths john and i usually take. one of my office drivers-an african-was running alone and 3 men jumped from the bushes and held him up with a knife.  also, unfortunately, rape is quite common though completely unreported. and, i have learned from my friends that live here, having sex with white girls is a huge prize, so to speak. ew.

i know i am a bit foolish. i used to laugh in undergrad when my friends would talk about the "dangers" of durham and-completely stupidly-would go running around east campus in the coolness of dark. but i do try to keep my head here.  i only run a couple of very public places alone and never through the cornfields where people can jump out or to the river alone-an area where women are attacked all the top. and mostly i run with someone else and even that only in daylight. 

so, i was a bit hesitant to run the marathon path.  it is very long, beginning through the urban area with too many cars and people and goats, then going way out into the coffee plantations, finally all the way to the Kilimanjaro gate we finished our climb at.  though much of that is rather desolate, it is a paved road with occasional cars and women carrying their bananas into town. 

in those long runs, the hardest part for me is actually the return.  though the way out is almost all uphill and the way back downhill-the run is so long that going "down" makes little difference.  i have never been much of a runner and certainly never long distance, so to run 8 or so miles only to have to run 8 more to get home is awful.  (especially on this route- as you get closer to the kili gate the rains usually start, soaking you through so all your chaffing clothes are a joy) so i wasn't particularly looking forward to it.

just after i turned, a man appeared from no where and started running after me. hearing the feet gave me a bit of a heart attack as i doubted  i'd be able to outrun someone intent on catching me at this point.  i didn't have much time to consider it though, two heartbeats and he was right next to me. hamna shida (it is nothing) this beautiful, tall man was at my side. he was decked out in actual running shoes and light running pants and jacket. through my toddler proficient kiswahili and his broken english, he told me he is "a runner. that is my job." he wanted to know why i ran if it is not my job.  i tried to explain that i am an actress and so it is sort of my job.  ah, he said, "you run to maintain your shape."  that's right.  :)  he trains at least 6 days a week doing this incredibly huge circle through moshi, to the rural district, past the mountain gate and back to him home.  it takes him and his friends 45 minutes, but "we are not ashamed." i was somewhat confused, thinking 45 minutes is nothing, but he assured me it should only take them 39 minutes. 

he ran with me, inadvertently encouraging me to pick up my speed, the entire way back.  it was great. not only was he very nice, but returning through the urban area can be very hazardous at that time of day.  i felt like i was in the middle of that olympics visa commercial, where the random african man misses his bus then runs all the way to town as the people in the bus laugh at wave.

yelp. i look like a runner.
 

hash, not hashish

hash, not hashish

every other weekend is the moshi Hash. the term was unfamiliar to me, though it is an international phenomenon. A hash is a running (though you may walk) trail set by the Hasher of interesting and difficult paths, including false trails. the "hounds" - runners follow a trail marked by spots of flour or sometimes a check marked by an "x." at the check you have to search for which direction to go to pick the trail up again. it all can lead to mass confusion, even once the correct path is found by the front runners. they are meant to leave an arrow pointing the way to the next flour but the arrow never seems to stay put, so you get lost anyway. at the end of the whole thing you celebrate with beer, though we always have other things as well as moshi is a family town. :)

this was only my second hash as i have been paragliding or climbing or at pangani for the others. the first one was a very beautiful walk though a valley and up and down some steep ledges- all through a rural area called Machame that i am unfamiliar with. this one was set from a friend of our's house in moshi proper, but again through an area that i didn't know existed.

having run earlier in the day with john, i contented myself to walk along with Rick (a brit phd student who studies "mwoh-squitoes" as he calls them. ew. kcmc has the best center for malaria research in at least East Africa. doesn't make me feel better about not taking malaria meds while i'm here. he actually pays people to go spend the night in this hut they have built to test different repellents with "wild" mosquitoes.)

Greg, todays hasher, had set a rather difficult path, spreading the flour quite far apart so you really had to search for the next spot. he also put 2 sections straight through the river. fun and challenging if you can jump from rock to rock, but not so fun if you are a "wrinkly" as my mother is now calling herself and all the old people we know, including the pair of octogenarians visiting our friends Kay and Russel that mother was keeping time with. they all managed the first slippery slope into the river bed, but when several young women went sliding off the rocks into the river, everyone paused.

so here we were-the walkers-half the younger across or nearly across, me in the middle, all the wazee (old) on the opposite bank. huge rocks, a deep fast current in cutting the trail. probably for the best, they decided the wrinklies should stop and climb straight up the bank back to the last pasture. all well and good, except that Barney, Kay and Russel's fabulous huge dog that i love had already carefully bounded his way over half the huge rocks. Barney, though he adores hashes and quivers near to heart attack at the thought of them, very faithfully runs back and forth checking on them throughout the trail. there was no way for him to go one way and them another unless he was leashed. so they called him back again. but the rocks were not made for crossing both directions.

just as he reached me, his back feet slipped and he went careening into the water. the current immediately swept him backwards down the river. he paddled and paddled as we all started shouting, but the current was too strong. he managed to grip his little front claws on a small rock, but was too exhausted to pull himself up. i looked down at his soaked, petrified face peering up through the water, his toenails scratching helplessly on the small rock as his huge body swam against the current.

i plunged in. stupid perhaps, but what can you possibly do? leave him? there was no way to haul him up as he was. the current grabbed me, pulling me past him, but i managed to get hold of a boulder just behind barney. lodging my body against the rock i could wedge myself underneath barney's flailing legs, letting him rest. russel meanwhile climbed down over the first rocks, kay right behind him. once he had caught his breath russel pulled his front paws up and he was able to use me as a step ladder. barney gone, i slipped myself, flying back, the water up to my shoulders, and had to grab hands to catch the rock again.

though he was out of the water, we still had to get him across the river one way or another. deciding he couldn't make it backwards we sent him on across to the young people. with his leash around my neck, i half swam, half climbed the rest of the way across. kay decided she better come to, just in case something happened--dogs are feared terribly in tanzania, even though he is completely sweet.


i'm glad those of us that did made it on as the trail had all sorts of fun, confusing bits. at one point we had to crawl belly first through some hedges near the hidden prison. but i'm also glad the wrinklies turned around. break a hip in moshi and the only thing to do is fly immediately to europe or america to be attended to. seriously!

running partners

some of the children that chase after john and i, pose for juls: