bearing blog: Sunday morning run, in bad cell phone photos.

Yesterday I did paperwork at the gym while I was waiting outside the 8yo's aikido class. Normally I am not a watching-the-lesson mom; I am a getting-my-own-workout-in mom. But yesterday I just couldn't face going round and round the track eighteen times in a mile, when I knew there would be nice weather today. (My daughter has not yet reached the age where I am allowed to leave the premises while she is in the Y.) So I told myself, "Tomorrow I will go run around the lake. I will get up early and be back in time for breakfast. That will be so much nicer than being inside."

And this morning I did. It wasn't hard to roll out of bed at all, because I was looking forward to it. I enjoy running around the lake so much more than running indoors, it really is a treat.

I drove Mark's car to the western side of South Minneapolis and parked about three blocks away from the lake. Sometimes I feel a little ashamed of the fact that I usually drive somewhere in order to go for a run in a pleasant urban environment. Unfortunately, I live in something of a running-path desert. Any out-and-back run of the lengths that I have time for would be at least fifty percent sidewalks-and-intersections. Annoying!

(Biking, on the other hand, would make a lot of sense. I really need to buy a bike lock.)

I could have parked closer to the lake, but I have two good reasons for parking here. One of them is that it is a pleasant walk through a residential neighborhood to get there. The street I park on dead-ends here, but the sidewalk doesn't.

The sidewalk looks almost as if it is going right into someone's yard, but eventually it turns right (heading north) and passes directly in front of the wide porch of a big, pretty yellow house that faces the lake. A couple of summers ago, I was watching it be renovated, a little bit of progress each time I went for a run.

This summer, the house next door is getting an overhaul. I can smell freshly sawn lumber, possibly even cedar. It looks a little blocky and ad hoc -- not, I think, faithful to the architectural bones of the house -- but you can't deny that these two stories of front porch will take advantage of its excellent lake view, at least in three seasons. Love those little casement windows on the first level.

At this point I have not yet started running. Down a sloping sidewalk in front of these two housew, and a third house that is the home of the Minnesota Zen Center, and a left turn, and across the helpfully placed crosswalk. Careful, there is a bike path at the bottom of the steps. Look both ways!

The bike path is one-way (commuters can bike the other way on the road), but the walking path is not. Today I turn left:

And off I go, running easily. I don't feel like working super hard. I feel like having a nice easy morning run. So easy that I can stop and take photos from time to time, with the camera in my cell phone that I keep zipped into my little performance-fabric wrist wallet along with the car key and a twenty dollar bill.

(Once, on the theory that you should give gifts that you would like to receive, I wrapped up one of these extremely useful wrist pouches for the $15 women's random Christmas gift exchange in our extended family. Mine was the last present unwrapped. It was obviously a disappointment. The next year I went on a different theory and brought a bottle of some kind of alcoholic chocolate mint truffle drink. That appeared to go over somewhat more successfully. Go figure.)

Not many people running around the lake today. But there are anglers on the dock!

I like to start out running south in the early morning, because of the sight of my own shadow stretching out before me, taller than life, running on ahead. It is curiously uplifting. If I am ever entertaining the slightest reluctance, if the inner whiner complains that the end is too far off, the shadow-runner seems to say, "Just put one foot in front of the other. Follow me; I do this kind of thing all the time." By the time I pull ahead of her, partway around the lake, I will have left the complaining voice far behind.

(unfortunately it is hard to get a shot of the shadow runner in action)

Rounding the south side I am momentarily startled by this silhouette:

It is a statue or something of a lake monster. I have seen it before, but not here. The last time I remember seeing it, it was in Lake Nokomis, visible from Cedar Avenue where it crosses the water. I think there must be someone in the city parks department whose job it is to move this enormous figurine around from lake to lake so that each year it is found in a different place.

Given that the city does a competent job (seriously) with things like snow removal, I suppose I can find it in my heart to approve of a few of my tax dollars going for, uh, whimsy.

At seven on a Sunday morning there are not many boaters out.

Shouts come over the water from a chaperoned group of kids who are doing something with a sailboat, not very far from shore, that has its sails down. Maybe they have just finished a sailing lesson? Are just starting one? Anyway, the lifejacketed kids and adults on the shore are yelling "Paddle! Paddle!" at the kids in the boat. Not in an emergency kind of way, but in a this-is-hilarious kind of way. There may be a story here, but I do not stick around to find out about it. I pass the dock, pass the always-staffed booth where we can find out more about aquatic invasive species, and leave that story behind.

I walk back from the lake, admiring the gardens here and there. This neighborhood's residents love their gardens.

And come to the other reason I parked three blocks from the lake:

I am thirsty. Large iced cold press in hand, no flavor but a shot of cream, I sit down for my post-run selfie so I can model my favorite running shirt. I call it the "Plausible Deniability" shirt: