2.79 miles. A tough 2.79 on sharp hills in the countryside beyond the Iowa City city limits, too. I'm looking to get a good night's sleep tonight, wake up early (for cooler weather), and see if I can pound out a longer run. No guarantees on a good length, but I will guarantee that I'm going to drag my sorry ass out of bed and give it a shot. I'll take effort for now.
I've decided to give music a break in favor of books on tape. I listened to the first three chapters of Jack Kerouac's classic On The Road during my run this evening, and it was steadily enjoyable. I'd even go as far as to say that tonight's run will probably be one that I remember for the rest of my life. On The Road is an autobiographical account of Kerouac's decision (and subsequent journey) to take a trip out west. Near the end of my run, I reached a point in the story when Kerouac is on his way through Iowa. He gushes over the Mississippi River in Davenport, stops in Iowa City briefly, spends a night in a hotel in Des Moines (where he remarks that girls in Des Moines are the "most beautiful"), gets a beer in Stuart, then becomes awestruck by the sight of Council Bluffs. He even gets a ride hitchhiking with two University of Iowa students.
Talk about timing. It was weird listening to it as I ran, and I imagined the possibility that my feet may have landed upon cement or soil or grass where Jack Kerouac once stood while traveling through. He really loved Iowa, from what I gathered, and he saw it as a gateway to his trip to the West. At one point, he mentions that Iowa essentially meant Denver, and Denver essentially meant escape. Iowa may be simple, but it is also strikingly sincere.
You don't see Iowa much in pop culture. When you do, it's stuff like this. Sure, we have Field of Dreams, but that's about it. It was wholly refreshing to hear such a high opinion of Iowa from a man who has been dead for forty years.
No comments:
Post a Comment