Sightings in the wild, part II

I've been spotted by co-workers while out on the loose again.

A while back, I was running past Walgreens as co-worker Jennifer was walking out to her car. I think she recognized me, in spite of what was almost certainly a crazy outfit; at the very least, she returned my wave.

A more recent spotting came from Jill, who was in a car at the time (but not the white CR-V that honked at me along 42nd Street).

It was raining at the time, which evidently prompted Jill to turn to her school-aged daughter and ask, "Do you think we should stop and offer her a ride?"

I didn't look miserable, though (hooray, no race face!), so they kept going. However, I think this was the same day it hailed, because I don't remember any other rainy runs ... maybe they should have stopped.

* * *

As for Sunday's Hy-Vee Road Races half marathon — I did it, and I did it well. I want to blog about it well, too, and today I just don't have the brain space. But details will be forthcoming, I promise!

Crossing Polk Boulevard off my list

When I announced that I'd be moving to Des Moines, Mike at Running Is Funny sent me an article about the trails and good road routes.

Each time in the past year and a half that I've checked back, I think smugly, "Oh, yah, I know all about those rec paths," and then realize that once again, I haven't managed to hit up Polk Boulevard, the most intriguing (read: easy) of the road routes it mentions.

Co-worker Suzanne, a runner and longtime resident of Des Moines, has also mentioned its appeal. But despite willingly driving to Water Works Park or Gray's Lake from West Des Moines to meet friends, I couldn't manage to travel fewer miles to run Polk.

Then I moved close to Sherman Hill, and the obstacles disappeared. I've done a four-miler that covers about half of Polk and drops me off on an older part of Grand Avenue twice now, and I have to say — I can't wait to do it in the springtime!

OK, so that can be said of just about anywhere in the Midwest, given how dreary the dead grass and bare trees can look, even if you like running during the winter.

Cut me some slack; I'm clearly enjoying the switch from newer (albeit still lovely) suburban houses to older, stately ones. If anyone knows of running history or architecture tours in Des Moines, do share!

My favorite views from the runs:

Roosevelt High School — one of the prettier schools I've seen. Not on Polk, but close to it.

I love brick buildings, and I love cottage-like homes. So yes, I will take this as a Christmas gift.

The Butler House on Grand. I will also accept a yearlong reservation there as a gift, for when my lease runs out, if the Polk Boulevard home above isn't for sale. 

If I remember correctly, this is either a law firm or financial services office. Nothing wrong with our well-built, recently renovated office, but ... I wish I worked in a mock castle :( 

I appreciate the cheerful yellow on this one.

Other structures I liked from this run: the bridges over Interstate 235. Every time I drove to work, I'd admire the pretty blue arches as I went under them. And now I've conquered them.

The pedestrian-only one, as seen from the Polk Boulevard one. What a view!

I don't know what appeals to me so much about overpasses. Short flatlander syndrome?

My new neighborhood is a little weird, and I like it

I've recently gone back to my dumbphone days and started running "naked" again — the cold weather kills my battery so fast that it's unnecessary dead weight in my pocket.

It's not like I'm training for anything, so I don't need to know my pace or splits; I'm also not doing solo night runs or venturing so far out into the wilderness that I fear for my safety when phone-free.

The most important purpose the iPhone has been serving, therefore, has been to take photos of the quirky things I find on my new routes. Such as:

A "little free library" outside someone's home. 

I've never seen an informal library outside of a coffee shop or a hotel, but I'm glad to find this — mostly because bookworms like to know they're not alone, but partly because then I have a backup plan if I run out of reading material while the library system is closed.

Traveling shrimp salesmen?

My parents live in the country, so I'm used to seeing roadside stands with produce. I've spent my entire life in the Midwest, so I'm *not* used to seafood tents. And no, I didn't buy any.

I think this was at the Jimmy John's on Grand.

I really hope someone has parked here illegally, and the business owner followed through with the graffiti's threat instead of calling a tow truck.

Holiday Running Streak kickoff: First step is the hardest

There was no reason for my Holiday Running Streak not to start strong.

I had the day off work; my family had visited me the previous weekend to help with moving; and the potluck I was attending didn't start until 2 p.m.

So naturally, it was after 10 p.m. before I got around to running. Fellow streakers Joel and Cory had long ago logged their runs and made sure I knew it, so the pressure was on.

But run I did — a single mile, but that's all you have to do to make it count. Funny how much better I felt after that, physically and mentally.

Here's a rundown of my streak so far.

Thursday: 1 mile. Hills are not fun on bellies that, until you moved, were comfortably full of food and wine. 

Hills are fun, however, for minds that remember how many desserts you ate (four small ones), approximately how much wine you drank (and still didn't catch a buzz, given the food baby you conceived) and how excited you were to finally explore your new neighborhood.

Friday: 3.75 miles. I tested out what I thought was the best route to pick up the Des Moines trail system. I glided through quiet, winding neighborhoods down to a gravel trail through Water Works Park, then huffed and puffed back up the downhills that were so relaxing earlier.

Des Moines continues to surprise me by how suddenly it turns rural. And how hilly it is.

Unrelated: This sign made me laugh.

Saturday: 3.25 miles. What those hills give, they also take. I'd noticed a steep uphill and sketched a path around it, reasoning that a hill at the end was good enough justification. 

But because I barely know the roads around my new place, I ended up picking a roller-coaster ride. With the relatively mild weather and the novelty of unfamiliar roads, though, I didn't mind at all.

Sunday: 2.66 miles. Sunday was a classic example of why Runner's World organized this run streak. Regina and I delayed our run so that we could do this:

That is a beer-and-cookie flight: a breakfast stout with the brownie, a vanilla oatmeal stout with the vanilla chocolate chip cookie, a citrusy IPA with the lemon bar, and a chocolate porter with the chocolate chocolate chip cookie.

I had no regrets (OK, I wish only one of us had gotten the brownie pairing so we could've split that), but I did need a few hours for the stomach to settle. And to be honest, during the run, I realized it wasn't at 100 percent.

However — I went, and given how lovely it was earlier in the day (yeah, when I was drinking beer and eating baked goods), I dared to bare the legs. Shorts in December!

Strange sights on Sunday runs

I went for a long stretch without seeing very many weird things out on runs.

The two Sundays leading up to today's race have broken that streak.

First, I saw what seemed to be a strangely high amount of clothing: Downtown, just off the Neal Smith Trail and near an apartment complex, there was a pair of tightie whities crumpled up on the sidewalk.

It reminded me of a pair I watched for months back off a country road in Rockton. I assume — without investigating — that people are discarding dirty pairs, but can't they just wait and put them in a garbage can?

Less gross but more oddly placed were the socks along the Jordan Creek Trail's 50th Street underpass. Without an apartment complex or laundromat nearby, there's not much explanation beyond a very unhygienic one: If there's no toilet paper to be found, I'm told, one's best bet is to use a sock.

But not everything I saw was bathroom-humor-related: I had a pleasant wildlife encounter not far from my complex.

I'm used to running up toward geese, which frankly scares me a little bit (do they attack?), so it was a pleasant change to see smaller birds hanging out on the sidewalk this past Sunday.

Most of them scattered as I approached, except for one bold one. As it turned out, s/he was lingering to pick up a half-eaten piece of pizza.

I suppose I could also demand who throws out a perfectly good piece of pizza, like I did with the laundry-litterers, but I was too amused by the bird's salvaging of it.

It was like something out of a cartoon, come to life. If only a dopey person had been holding the piece, gearing up to take a big bite ...

(Yes, I know birds eat people food, the prime example being bread crusts.)

An exploratory run

I don't have any interesting commentary about my running performance Friday, a five-miler that was supposed to be race pace.

I averaged a 9:16 pace ... oops ... or hooray, because there were definitely some inclines?

However, I did indulge the wanderlust I've started to feel. Not that I don't love all the rec paths around the West Des Moines area, but as half marathon training ramps up, I feel like my routes are growing repetitive.

So I got creative and explored more of the chi-chi neighborhood that borders those rec paths. The terrain was good -- sometimes I worry that the sidewalk on unfamiliar roads will end abruptly, as it does on University and Westown Parkway -- and so was the scenery.

Beyond all the beautiful houses (and, OK, a few ugly ones, like the boxy avocado-green mansion), these were my favorite sights:

This does not seem like very good urban planning, but I'm no civil engineer.

I love lions. And all cats. And the intro to Chicago Bulls games.

I'll be back, Country Club Estates ... I've got several more runs in my future, and most likely a few bike rides, too. Stay tuned.

The kindness of strangers

It used to be rare for me to greet people on runs, back when I was conquering the farm country of western Winnebago County.

Around my 'hood, it was expected, but beyond that, either I waved to acknowledge cars, shouted "STAY!" at loose dogs or silently cursed the friendly guy who liked to point out how steep the hill I was climbing was.

Now that I'm a city runner, I have a lot more brief and breathless conversations with people, mostly about the weather or hills (shorter and smaller than that awful one back home).

But the one I had a few Fridays ago with some teen girls definitely wins the prize for funniest.

The two were on the Jordan Creek Trail behind the Dahl's on EP True, and each was holding something that my nearsighted eyes couldn't make out. I also couldn't tell whether they were about to ask me a question, so I kept peering and slowed down.

As I approached, I realized one was holding a cigarette; the other, a pipe. Whenever I pass someone who clearly isn't a runner, I wonder what they're thinking of me and assume it's probably snide.

This time, though, we did more than exchange hellos. The cigarette girl looked at me, smiled and said cheerfully: "You're doing the right thing." (The pipe smoker was otherwise occupied.)

I laughed -- it was so unexpectedly self-deprecating and yet encouraging (even if she was being sarcastic), and so much more interesting than the brief hellos/thanks that I usually trade with other rec path users.

Art on the run

I began this blog with lofty ambitions, one of which was the weekly "seen while running" roundup.

That feature fell victim to complacency, in two ways: One, the more I ran the main roads around my apartment, the less extraordinary their infrastructure/architecture seemed; and two, the more certain I was of my whereabouts (during the daytime), the less I felt compelled to carry my smartphone and invite shoulder twinges.

But still, I appreciate the views I have, particularly the opportunity that running gives me to observe them safely, and I like seeing my overall time/splits after a good stretch and a tall glass of water.

So, while it took me a month or so, I've managed to gather a few works of art and creativity:

Is it Herky or Cy? I'm from a noncollege town and graduated from a Division II college; I have no idea! But seriously: He perches along Woodlands Parkway. Very appropriate.

Whew, something I understand: NFL loyalty and passion for the color purple. And no, Packer fans, I am not going to join you in vitriol against the Vikings just because they're also in the NFC North.

Here's the reason for the creativity reference. It's getting darker earlier, but I love my sweatbands. What to do? Loosen my headlamp as far as it'll go and wear it around my hips — so that it also keeps my shirt from rolling up.

Seen while running: Week of Aug. 26

First, the sights:

This is someone's driveway in Clive. My college's mascot is Spike the Bulldog, so my attention is always drawn to pawprints.

The least-guarded private lake ever. It's a beautiful sight, though, because it always marks the end of a long ascent.

Then the smells: dead animals. Fortunately for you readers, I was on a naked run when I found the mummified squirrel on the 60th Street sidewalk, so I wasn't at all tempted to take a picture.

Even if I had brought the iPhone, though, I would have had to linger near the stench source to get the picture. No thank you.

And last, the sounds. A fellow runner on the Clive Greenbelt Trail seemed to be having just as mediocre of a run as I was — walking breaks, grimace, shuffly feet, etc. I, however, didn't make a coughing/hacking noise every few steps.

In her defense, though, she probably couldn't hear her own coughs. She sure didn't seem to hear me when I called out "on your left" like the other folks on the trail did. Seriously, people, turn down your mp3 players.

Seen while running: Week of Aug. 19

First, a glimpse of home, and by home I mean the two houses out in the country that I've lived in.

Seeing deer was nothing out of the ordinary at both places, so my sister and I each had some serious eye-rolling when city folks would squeal at a deer sighting — it takes a bold deer who'll let me get within iPhone camera range to impress me.

The brown blob in the middle of the photo is the second of two deer that scooted across the Clive Greenbelt Trail in front of me.

From the route I inaugurated last Monday. Water, whether a natural body, a fountain or a chlorinated manmade structure, draws quite the longing glances from this always-too-warm runner.

What my friends Ken and Annah would call a "shee-shee neighborhood." I don't know how to spell "shee-shee," so please correct me if you do.

Just off 60th Street west of my complex is this house I pass on probably a third of my runs. The first time I went this way and spotted an ambulance in a driveway, I thought there was a medical emergency at the home.

I kept seeing the ambulance in the same driveway, and the theory that an EMT parks his/her work vehicle at home seems only slightly less ludicrous than the same person having medical issues every single time I run — particularly when that person isn't me.

This probably kept any nosy neighbors busy speculating for a few days in a row, the first time the ambulance came home ...

Seen while running: Week of Aug. 5

All three sights — only one of which was documented by camera — were scary in their own way last week.

First, on Monday night, was what I assumed was an act of violence. I'm pretty lukewarm toward watermelon, though it did hit the spot perfectly after my first 40-mile bike ride, but it couldn't have done anything to warrant this treatment!

The scene of the crime: a sidewalk along 50th Street.

I will say this, though: When I first spotted this, in the dark and without the benefit of contacts, I assumed it was a watermelon wedge. Then as I doubled back, it occurred to me that perhaps rubbernecking was a bad idea — what if the red flesh wasn't fruit, but actual flesh?

Gone are the days when roadkill was an everyday obstacle on my runs. Someone's gross-out instinct is weakening each day she lives in a city ...

Second, on Tuesday night, came another stealth biker. I nearly walked into him as I set foot on the sidewalk for my run. More like "not seen while running."

It wasn't completely his fault that I didn't see him until the hum of his rapidly spinning gears and the breeze created by his speed startled me — I was about to embark on a nighttime run.

And third, on Saturday morning, was Jordan Creek Trail, on foot, east of 50th Street. Unfortunately, I wasn't supposed to see that. I was supposed to turn north on 50th Street during my 4.5-mile route, which I'd started an hour before I needed to be in the shower so that I could arrive, clean and punctual, at work.

All of those things still happened, because I realized my error just late enough to nudge the run toward five miles ... and because I'd packed my lunch the night before.

Seen while running: Week of July 29

I guess I'm really growing used to my turf, because only two sights popped out at me last week.

When my parents came to visit and I pointed out the Des Moines metro area's excellent sidewalk system to them, they noted that local officials must've had a clear vision for the future and a refusal to kowtow to developers — hence the wide, smooth, continuous surfaces.

However, I'm starting to wonder whether they were built this wide to accommodate autos. Why do cars, vans and trucks need to use the sidewalks, when they  have roads? I don't know, but it seems a week doesn't go by without me needing to dodge an oversized vehicle hogging the entire sidewalk.

At least there was plenty of room on both sides for me to pass, unlike the time I was riding my bike on 60th Street's sidewalks and had to squeeze through on foot-wide strips while dodging low branches — or worrying about being sideswiped by oncoming traffic. This is Westown Parkway.

On a lighter note, I appreciated this apartment dweller's space-saving storage solution.

The bikes block the view from/of the street — it's like a privacy screen at the same time!

And a lovely observation I made but couldn't exactly capture on camera: the smell of french fries. After exploring some of the roads west of my apartment, I discovered fast food paradise — Arby's and Taco John's within a mile of home, Culver's within a mile and a quarter. (Burger King is also there, for those of you who eat there more often than "not since spring 2005, and only for a milkshake because McDonald's was inexplicably closed.")

Three of my favorites right on my new running route. I could develop my own Devour Des Moines! Roast beef at Arby's, potato olés at Taco John's and a concrete at Culver's ... bet that would lead to a memorable seen while running post.

Who has to correct errors in their own blog? This girl.

Our family dog, Jenny, is famously full of personality, and she has quite a few fans. So I figured that my most recent seen while running post, in which I referenced a tussle she had with a wild animal, would elicit a reaction from the family.

Meet Jenny! This photo does not adequately show her droopy face and human-sized head, but it does show her impressive camera-mugging skills and rippling muscles.

I was right, but for the wrong reasons. Jenny did not literally face off with a possum, leaving with bloody jowls, but rather a woodchuck, I was reminded.

In my defense, the incident took place in 2008, and I'm not getting any younger. Out in the country, we've had run-ins with so many creatures that I should be forgiven any confusions: the raccoon that committed suicide under my car, the deer who dash across the road at night, the possums who come too close to the house, the coyotes who howl audibly and possibly bite our tortie cat, the bat that crept into our attic, the birds we find (dead and alive) in the yard, the rabbits/squirrels/chipmunks that feast on our yard when neighborhood cats aren't feasting on them, and the turtles who cross the road.

Those are just the wild ones — I'm not counting the livestock — and the nonroadkill ones.

Also in my defense, or to my credit, I'm phasing out of country-runner mode and into city-runner mode.

I'm growing used to running on sidewalks at any hour of the day I please, with all sorts of people around me: bikers, walkers, other runners, skaters and stroller-pushers ... everyone but drivers, who are kept at a safe distance from me. This is a marked contrast to my days of meandering down the middle of country roads, swerving to the shoulder for the occasional car.

And with the more urban setting comes the change in animal sightings.

Country folks like their dogs; their leashes, not so much — I can't think of the last time I saw a free-roaming dog. (I hear what are presumably unleashed but penned-up dogs a lot, however.)

Deer continue to show up along the wooded rec paths, and I'm used to that from forest preserves, but the boldness of rabbits scurrying across the trails is a novelty. The ones back home had more to fear (our cats) and more room to hide in the dense woods.

And that's about it, with the occasional chipmunk/squirrel. Certainly the terrain I cross these days isn't peppered with possums and raccoons who fell victim to cars, nor is it populated with fierce woodchucks.

Sorry, Jenny. As my mom pointed out, you're more than prepared to handle a stupid possum; this citified girl, however, is obviously not. The Scooby Snacks are on me.

Seen while running: Week of July 22

When I rounded a certain corner one evening, I thought I'd stumbled upon a miniputt course and started having flashbacks to Wisconsin vacations.

An office park in West Des Moines. My sources weren't kidding when they said this was the nice part of town ...

On the same route, if not the same run, it wasn't just the humidity making me think of the tropics and tropical drinks.

This is actually someone's house in West Des Moines. Makes our summertime Christmas lights seem a lot more subdued and less of a statement.

Can you guess what this is? Nope, it's not old carpeting. It's grass, on some stretch of land not owned by a business with money and water to spare on sprinklers.

A much better picture of drought than the one I took the prior week.

By far the scariest thing I've encountered on a run, including silent Lance Armstrongs: a possum. Before you laugh at me, just remember that our family dog had to visit the vet after tussling with one of these. The poor dog got bit in the jowls by that filthy creature ...  (Edited Aug. 1: Laugh at me. The dog fought a woodchuck, not a possum. I stand by my assertion that possums are nasty, though.)

Wild animals definitely have the right of way on rec paths. I yielded at a safe distance, hence the blurriness of the photo.

And of course there were Wednesday night's storm clouds, if you didn't catch my tale of daring ... or, rather, my tale of underpreparation and some darn good luck.

Seen while running: Week of July 15

Today's "seen while running" post is a mix of imagery and actual images ... can't get the camera phone out for everything, nor should I, in some cases.

Someone's driveway decorations. My hometown isn't close to many big-name football universities. The college I attended? Let's just say that the few fans at games liked to taunt the opposition by yelling our ACT scores, not the football score. The passion for the Hawkeye-Cyclone rivalry is a fascinating and confusing thing for me to observe.

Seen, but not photographed: in the neighborhood south of my apartment complex, a car in a driveway with its backseat doors open.

When the smell of an Abercrombie & Fitch fought its way through the thick humidity and to my nose, I realized that the figures in the back of the car were likely teens trying to make out. Sorry for staring (or, as I wasn't wearing contacts, for squinting intently).

Another image that reminds me of home — Rock Valley College is our community college.

A poorly lit picture of drought. For comparison, see what Walnut Creek looked like before July 1 here.

Seen, but not heard: at dusk along the heavily wooded, winding Clive Greenbelt path, a biker who whizzed past and scared the crap out of me. The squeak of his bike reached me just as he did, without a single "on your left."

My high-pitched, breathless "oh gosh!" and melodramatic, yet involuntary, hand to my throat did not teach him anything, apparently. When I came upon walkers a few minutes later, I asked them whether they'd seen and/or heard the biker; one told me that she had to yell at him for his silent approach.

My foot, after a 6-foot-tall man wearing heavy boots stepped on my ballerina flat-clad foot. Note the bruise on the bunion joint. This, fortunately, did not impede my running.

Seen while running: Week of July 8

The sights were a little scarce last week ... time to start working in new terrain, or keeping the sweat out of my eyes more efficiently. My sweatbands aren't prepared to handle what a Midwest summer can do!

Seen along 60th Street. I hope this is some sort of road patching material ... or basically anything other than what it looks like. I didn't notice a smell — I'll say that at least.

Also on 60th Street. Looks like our family dog isn't the only critter who bounds through freshly poured pavement!

I also saw/overheard a belligerent man on his cellphone across the street from my apartment complex: "Are you retarded? I think you're mentally unstable. You shouldn't be driving," he was snapping, very helpfully, at someone who apparently was having some sort of car issues.

Usually I love eavesdropping, but this time I just felt bad for the person on the other end. Don't worry, I had no intention of intervening — I just put an extra spring in my step to finish the last quarter-mile and round a corner out of his sight.

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.

Seen while running: Week of June 24

Last week while running, I made some new friends ...

Somewhere along 50th Street, providing me a nice catch-your-breath break.

 ... saw some natural and man-made art ...

"Paths Unite," by James Bearden, on the Clive Greenbelt Trail

Walnut Creek, seen from an overlook with a bench, looked awfully inviting on a muggy summer evening. This was the night I checked out the Clive Greenbelt Trail on foot.

... had flashbacks of the upper Midwest (home sweet home) ...

Also the name of a neighborhood in Rockton, Ill.! This one looks a little swankier.

Just like in Stevens Point, Wis., near the Schmeeckle trails, Clive has phallic brick structures near its rec path!

... and watched sweat pool on every square inch of me.

That is a bib of sweat forming on my shirt.

Overall, a good week in running, even with the hiatus for extreme heat, and even with the not-extreme-but-just-intense heat.

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.