Clinton Lake Floats Away

Being apart and lonely is like rain.
It climbs toward evening from the ocean plains;
from flat places, rolling and remote, it climbs
to heaven, which is its old abode.
And only when leaving heaven drops upon the city.

It rains down on us in those twittering
hours when the streets turn their face to the dawn,
and when two bodies who have found nothing,
disappointed and depressed, roll over;
and when two people who despise each other
have to sleep together in one bed -

that is when loneliness receives the rivers. . . .

Rainer Rilke, Loneliness


More photographs from the closet :

Grant Park, Chicago

Leaving Lincoln

The Railyard, Winter Study

Well, what can I do, the Clinton Lake 30 miler was yesterday, and I was sitting inside watching the rain and wind from the window side. I don't feel all that bad, though, as I ran 4.75 miles Friday, which was my first real run in 2 months.

I am realizing that although injured, I am content. The winter months this year produced the best running I have done. Although it was run alone, out on the South Farms, not in competition, I achieved more than I thought possible. The long slogs in the snow, battling frozen fingers and strong winds, were the cause of intense experiences which I will remember and cherish.

This song will always remind me of winter running :