Songs From The Wood

And the riverbed sings of the waters of march
The promise of life
It’s the joy in your heart – Antonio Carlos Jobim

Spring is in the air. Last week, it was so warm, I took Maya out without her wearing a sweater or a jacket. Everywhere I turn, I see a world brimming with life. Scenery which looked like this:

are giving way to scenes like this:

and this.

Wildflowers are blooming everywhere. Squirrels have woken up from their hibernation and are busy foraging. A few weeks back, I spied three nests in the leaves of the English Elm tree outside our house. Those nests now seem empty, the baby finches having made their way into the world. Cherry

After all this time, I started running with Maya i.e. with Maya in a jogging stroller. One of the many advantages of becoming a parent much later than most of my peers is that friends offer their infant supplements and tools including expensive ones such as jogging strollers. We got one from a friend at work last year, but I didn’t get a chance to use it. When the weather was good, I thought that Maya was too little to be bouncing around in a stroller, experiencing every bump on the road (I’m bad at navigating to avoid such spots). When Maya was big enough for me to be comfortable, winter had set in and I didn’t want her sitting in the stroller, exposed to the elements, freezing her hands and ears (she mostly refuses to wear any protective clothing on her head).

About three or so weeks ago, we dusted off the jog stroller and took Maya out with us. As usual, Shanthala was the daring one, striking out with it long before I did, even though she’s an occasional runner at best. For the past two weeks, I’ve been consistently running with Maya every alternate day. I wasn’t sure how she would fare. She is a very active child, always busy exploring, peeking and poking. I wondered if she would sit still. I started by running about four miles and very quickly advanced to seven. She seems to be enjoying it, so far, captivated by all the new sounds and sights along the Stevens Creek trail. The trail starts not too far from where we live and a mile and half along not so busy roads gets me there. From there, it is miles of running along a trail for only foot use and bikes.

The trail is named after one of the early settlers of Cupertino, Elisha Stephens. Originating on Black Mountain, the highest point around here, it travels about 20 miles, flowing through the towns of Los Altos, Cupertino and Sunnyvale before eventually flowing into the bay at Shoreline Park in Mountain View. The section of the trail near our house is paved till it hits Shoreline. Running from our house to Shoreline Lake and back is a little less than a half-marathon and was my weekend running trail till Maya was born. The trail does not make you forget that you’re in an urban area, the highway within hearing distance till you hit Shoreline, overpasses over expressways and underpasses under highways, roads leading from apartment blocks a few times.

But, on the whole is still quite pretty. Frequently, we spot mallards and other ducks in the creek. As we near Shoreline, cranes start to show up and once I even saw a pelican on the creek.

There are half-mile markers all along the trail. The advantage of it being so accessible is that there are many people on the trail, people with infants in strollers, old men and women, people out walking their dogs and even some commuters, hurrying on their bikes to Google and other high tech offices along the way.

The trail has decent shade till it enters Shoreline Park from where it is completely exposed. The exposure is great for views, but bad on Maya. The first time I took her running, we returned with her cheeks burnt red from the sun and I didn’t even venture into the exposed section. The next time around, I applied baby sunscreen on her. The jog stroller has decent shade which we enhance by hanging a small blanket to avoid the sun hitting her at even acute angles. But the blanket means no views and Maya doesn’t always take kindly to that. She occasionally plays peek-a-boo with the sheet.

My running is slightly different from the days before her. I stop occasionally to check on her or near scenic views. I also stop near friendly looking folks with dogs since Maya seems to love dogs. She’s hardly scared by even big dogs barking loudly. When we’re running on the trail, if there are others either running or walking their dogs ahead of us, Maya gets all excited and starts flapping her arms and legs with pleasure as we approach them and pass them by. She sometimes claps her two little hands as we pass them. Many along the trail have remarked that she seems to be enjoying herself. I take a bottle of milk and water with me. At the turn around point, I offer her both and she picks one. Since the past two weeks or so, she’s also started feeding herself and so I can give her the bottle of milk and continue running. She doesn’t lift the bottle up however as it empties and so I tilt the stroller onto the rear wheels providing that lift for her to finish the bottle.

Fresh from the rains, the creek roared when we ran for the first time two weeks back. It had softened to a gurgle on Thursday. This weekend’s rain hopefully will keep the creek filled. As we approach summer, the creek slowly starts to dry up and stays with little water all the way from then on till the rains in winter.

A week back, Maya and I ran into a Soap Box Derby, a youth car racing program organized along the street we took to reach the trail. Maya watched in fascination as kids, some quite young, hurtled down the highway overpass. Such things liven up her time and hope will keep her from getting bored. She also talks to me as we run along the trail, her little hand pointing this way and that sometimes.

I’m glad to be back running again. After Maya was born, parenting exhausted me and I let the lack of time and the pressure of one more thing to do from running much. The best of weeks, I ran maybe twice, but several times, a couple of weeks went by between runs. I slowed from my heights of seven minute miles and shortened from the distances of upto fifteen miles. I was quite pleased to do seven miles at about a eight minute mile pace pushing the stroller. The overpasses and underpasses provide some uphill runs and I tackle them as fast as possible. Maya squeals as I make sharp turns approaching the overpass, flipping the stroller onto its rear wheels for smoother turns. A jog stroller differs from a regular stroller in having only three legs and a fixed front wheel which makes for greater stability and easier maneouvering at running speeds, but requires lifting of the front wheel to make the turns smoother. A wrist grip ensures that I do not lose control of the stroller at any time.

Our inability to conceive initially was what got me off the bike and onto my feet. In that, I discovered the joy of running. To share in that joy with Maya makes the pleasure even greater. Now that she has started walking, I hope to see the days when she’ll run with me.