Unscheduled Stops

It's dark outside early, it's November, and the wind is howling outside my window while I sit in bed with two siamese and a Macbook Pro under wool blankets, sitting on a heating pad.

This afternoon it was just warm enough to wear a t-shirt for a run but I pulled on a long-sleeved Capilene and I'm glad I did because there were more than a few cold blasts of air every time I stopped to adjust my shoelaces or wait for a traffic light.

Today my short jog turned into a remarkable run. I wasn't looking forward to running downtown today because sometimes in Wichita the downtown can seem barren and that's depressing. Economic downturns tend to be depressing. But I ran through the cityscape toward the riverfront and had to stop in my tracks when a massive formation of birds chasing bugs caught my eye- then another grouping- then another. Not more than 100 feet off of the ground swirling between the buildings. Thousands of them, looking like magic.

I kept churning along, listening to Hot Water Music, running past the public library, past Century II and the fountains, and along to the riverfront. I stopped at the bottom of the steps of the fountains. To smell the roses figuratively, but literally to appreciate 30 Canadian geese standing on the sidewalk along the river and on the dried banks below. They looked up at me curiously- this man running along a draining river at sunset on a blustery day. 10 of them in unison forgot about me and dipped down and drank some water. The others mingled amongst themselves. I decided to walk through the group as the fastest way to get on with my run and delighted in their antics- their squat movements, their choreographed drinking and pecking, and their disinterest in me. I laughed out loud.

I continued running but stopped shortly to appreciate a statue I've passed plenty of times and never bothered to appreciate. I was stopping so much to appreciate so much today i may as well give it my attention now.

"Dedicated to the Pioneers,"

the plate read. The statue is of a mother and her son- she clutching her Bible to her chest and her son's hand, and he clinging to a crude carved boat to take to the river. It made me appreciate the history Kansas has to offer, the pioneering spirit, the past and future Family Doctors of tending to those few who lived and live in the remote regions of Kansas. Later this evening I would tell an interviewee visiting from the Pacific Northwest stories about Wyatt Earp calling out a posse only 300 meters from where I was standing looking at that statue, or Carrie A. Nation taking a hatchet to a bar near my downtown loft. There is so much history here.

I completed my run with no more interruptions. I came home refreshed, happy to move my body again and with a better appreciation of Kansas and the good fortune I have to be able to take times to pause- for a moment or for a weekend- and appreciate the nature and culture of the place I get to live and train in.