What I'll miss about running in West Des Moines

I mentioned in an offhand way a few posts ago that I would be moving soon.

Soon came sooner than I thought: By Thanksgiving, I'll be out of my West Des Moines apartment and living in Des Moines proper.

There are, of course, many aspects of the new apartment that I'm excited about (otherwise I would've just renewed here), but, duh, one of them is fresh running scenery.

At the same time, I'll miss certain things about my current place, some of them related to running routes. I've been planning a few runs (not all of them) with the intention of hitting some spots I likely won't return to very soon.

The top five features of West Des Moines running that I'll miss:

5. Proximity to Raccoon River Park: I didn't even go there to run very often, but its gravel trail and heavy tree cover reminded me of a beloved trail back in my hometown (which in fact I want my ashes scattered along, some day far in the future).

It's where I set two 5K personal records at the past two Remembrance Runs, and it's also where I first went running with fellow "Scoop Chasers" Regina, Zach and Emily — setting the tone for a year of meeting up to run or bike.

4. Nearby restaurants: I frequently run past Biaggi's, Culver's, Taco John's, Arby's and a few other fast-food joints, and they all put out heavenly smells. Sometimes it's a cruel taunt, but mostly I just enjoy another reason to think about food.

3. The Ashworth Road overpass over Interstate 35: I just really like this overpass. I'm not sure whether it's because of the vines growing over the chain-link covering, or whether it's because I often cross it after coming up a long incline.

2. The variety of trails in all directions: I'm within a mile of the Jordan Creek Trail, within about 1.5 miles of the Clive Greenbelt Trail and at most seven miles from the Raccoon River Valley Trail. That doesn't even include the minitrails around the city.

Best of all — they're not all in the same direction, so I could pick based on where the wind was coming from. Or where I wanted to deal with hills.

1. Its wide, smooth, continuous sidewalks: In the part of the city where I live, West Des Moines' sidewalks are twice as wide as my new neighborhood's are; almost every street has nonstop sidewalk; and nearly every one is either smooth or along a road so quiet that I can just hop into the street.

Coming next week, to ward off any nostalgia as move-out approaches: what I'm ready to say goodbye to.

Seen while running: Week of July 1

On my way to the Clive Greenbelt path, this is what I see (in addition to everyone stoppin' and starin' at me):

Every time I pass this, I think it's an abbreviated expletive aimed at the city of Clive. If anyone knows what it really is, please do share.

Is this a squash shell? Whatever it is, it's been hanging around for about a week now.

And then once I was there, I spotted these things:

I too was tired when I snapped this photo. Did someone create this graffiti after watching me slog by recently?

Oh hey, I ran all the way to Chicago! In 88-degree weather, no less. Definitely warrants a leap into the lake.

Back home, after a post-half PR of 6.5 miles, I found this. Scratch "foot model" (or LMFAO music video extra) off my list of career possibilities.

Left foot, covered in popped blisters. I didn't even know I had those.

Right foot, covered in blisters and topped with calluses. Friday night fun, this particular evening, was exfoliating.

I can only reminisce about running, with this heat

Unsurprisingly, I'm no fan of the past few days' heat wave.

I am glad to say, however, that I took advantage of the ample warning to work in a few runs before the wave hit. And I'm even happier to say that the three most recent runs were straight-up wonderful.

Saturday, I finished work and dinner while there was still plenty of light to hit the streets without fear. I picked a 4.5-mile route, to take advantage of the lovely late evening weather, and did something I might never have done before: extend a run simply because I felt so strong. Even after the extra mile, I could've kept going — I stopped for reasons other than fatigue (increasing darkness, interest in preserving motivation for the next day, etc.).

My splits: 10:16, 9:40, 9:20, 9:30 and 9:50. Nice, slow start; several sub-10:00 miles; average pace of 9:28. That run was the farthest, and possibly the fastest, one I've done since the May 20 half marathon. The only complaint I have about it? I couldn't just jaywalk (jayrun?) across the final street before my complex, because a police car was waiting across the same intersection.

I missed running Sunday, but that might've been a blessing in disguise — I was that much more determined to head out Monday and Tuesday. Both days, I faced the serious hill on Westown Parkway that crosses Interstate 35.

To help you imagine the duration and incline of this hill, I played a little game with my speedometer one night as I drove home from work. Going west on Westown, if I'm doing the speed limit of 35 mph and take my foot off the gas when I reach the flat top of the hill, I can approach 45 mph, just coasting, past where it levels off on the western side of the interstate.

And remember: I run this stretch in the opposite direction. Now that I know it's there, I could avoid it, but I'm just dedicated enough to running to take pride in not dodging every single hill. Hence my Monday route — head to the hill, run over it, double back to a certain point, and repeat.

I'm not saying it was easy, but I will say that I did my two hills without stopping midclimb, without swearing and without breaking down. I'll do it again, and I'll add more repeats. Speed intervals are a struggle for me, since I'm terrible at pacing myself, but maybe I can stick with some hill work.

For sure Monday's effort made Tuesday's more mentally bearable; I picked a four-miler that led me across the same beastly hill (but of course, only once!). It felt better than it looks on paper or on the screen: 10:00, 10:05, 10:15 and 9:40.

During that 10:15 stretch, I do remember taking a walk break, which was a little bit of a disappointment as I hadn't had to take a deliberate walk break up to that point — only a pause to take a photo or wait for the traffic light to change. It must've been a well-deserved one, though, if I cranked out a 9:40 pace after it.

I hope to sneak in a run or two in the next few days, even though my weather widget has nothing but the low 90s through Tuesday — I do, however, have my two early-start-early-finish days over that stretch, which should allow for evening (not night) runs. Or, even crazier, maybe the 100-degree-plus heat indexes will make the 90s feel tolerable?

Seen while running: Week of June 17

I have an iPhone and new territory to explore. I'm hoping this adds up to achieving my goal of putting more artwork in my new blog than I did in my old one.

So here are some sights to share with you from the week starting June 17.

The sidewalks in West Des Moines have exceeded all my previous expectations for sidewalks (namely, that there are some). They're wide, smooth and continuous, including over interstates.

My favorite overpass so far is the Ashworth Road crossing of Interstate 35, primarily because the south end looks like the entrance to a garden (very "Secret Garden"-esque) and secondarily because it's fairly flat (unlike the Westown Parkway crossing over Interstate 35, which is a rolling uphill).

The Ashworth Road overpass, above Interstate 35. Taken June 17.

On the same run, I made a detour through a neighborhood so I could hit a full four miles. I spotted a lot of nice, upper-middle-class houses, a few dogs and their masters, and ... this creepy creation. Imagine visiting these people at night for the first time and having your headlights illuminate this thing. And to make matters worse, once I uploaded the picture, I spotted the tall one's companion crouched in the foreground.

A house not far from my complex. Taken June 17.

Speaking of creepy ... I noticed this during June 20's freaking hot run, but the call of the chilled Gatorade, air conditioning, ice-cold water and shower was too loud to allow me to stop.

Taken June 23. I hope this is the only Peeping Tom within running range of my place.

This one is sort of a cheat. I spotted it along 60th Street coming back from a bike ride, but since I checked it out the next time I ran, technically I saw it while running.

Apparently I live in the Wild West Des Moines. Taken June 23.

Not pictured: The couple in a too-close-for-this-kind-of-humidity embrace along a path/playground combo smack in the middle of a neighborhood. I was polite and glanced the other way ... but allowed myself to think — and post — smarmily that my night was hotter and sweatier than theirs was.