Sunday, December 05, 2004

A Runner's Song

Oh Glory be Prospect Park on a Sunday autumn morning. Oh Glory be.

Smartmom was composing a euphoric post, an ode to her great park, so blessed did she feel out in the morning air, the trees changing from deep red to brown, And she was running with no pinky toe pain -- so it was a great, great day. Okay, some guy was wretching over by the lake, a skeezy looking alocoholic puking into a rusty garbage pail. "Ignore that," she said aloud to noone, "It's getting in the way of my poetic moment."

But truly the park is every runner's secret paradise. That 3.2 mile loop around the park provides a pleasing view of meadows and trees, the lake, the Grecian temple, the skating rink, the boat house, the carousel (some days even the caliope plays), the zoo, the dog walkers and their dogs in the dog run, Grand Army Plaza and more.

And there are so many runners out there. Even this late in the season. The park is a symphony of harmonious difference: body sizes, abilities, skin colors, ethnicities, languages, styles, accents, and attitudes. And there's this feeling of harmony as you go around -- smiles of encouragement and familiarity, of shared pain and accomplishment.

See the Russian ladies walking; the serious yuppie runners -- track stars in college; the Carribeans running and talking; the middle-aged women in pairs yakking about their lives, their jobs, their children; the super serious Rastafarian runners; the lone runners with their i-pods; the hip young black girls running to stay fit; teenagers running track; the big, big women and men running slow with cardio meter arm bands; the fathers running with jogger strollers (the babies sleeping through it all); the guy who seems to run all day, every day; the marathoners who speed by; the mothers running with overweight children saying, "Keep going, you eat too much!"; the Hasidim walking with their big families...

Some run in packs, some in pairs, some brave it alone. Alone is a wonderful way to hear yourself think, to sing, to compose blogs, to admire the park in its majesty. Alone is a great way to feel alive on a Sunday autumn morning in the park oh glory be. So blessed is Smartmom to be part of the great symphony of runners, the runners of Prospect Park.


At 2:34 PM, Blogger Helen_of_Sparta said...

Hi Smartmom,
I just wanted to comment on your site as a whole...I love the idea of nick-naming your family. Just one question: who is OSFO? Also, I love that you write in third person - it brings a certain character to your site. :-) Check out mine (Helen_of_Sparta) to see some "rants about the younger generation."
~ Lydia

At 5:22 PM, Blogger mamainwaiting said...

Hi SM, Now I'm feeling guilty about not going running with you this AM. Sounds like I missed a lot. But at least I get to read your blog about the pleasure in running in our park... thanks for the reminder. love, MIW

At 4:52 AM, Blogger Udge said...

A nice piece of writing. But you do realize that the guy who seems to run all day, every day thinks exactly the same of you? He goes home and tells his partner, "That Smartmom was there AGAIN, she must be really keen!" ;-)


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