Day 2,
September 19
I ran past Huangxing park, but it was closed today.
I find it somewhat difficult to write about running. When running there's nothing to do but think about things. When I'm not following any particular route, I often notice new structures, or discover how roads I'd never thought about much before surprisingly connect. I have ideas for short stories, or I come up with a marvelous plan to revolutionize electronic dictionaries. Then I come home, take a shower, and feel a momentous distance between my current self and the world I saw when I ran, less than an hour earlier. My run last night, getting lost in the dark, already feels like a distant memory.
When I'm running, I'm always moving. There's a certain kind of careful observation one can do while moving, there are details one can take in, but they're limited by the fixed distance and angle you're limited to most of the time. Other than precariously stepping onto the road when there's a bunch of parked bikes blocking my way, very rarely do I stray from the sidewalk.
This state of affairs can be partially amended by repeated runs past the same places via different routes, but I'll always just be running past things, observing the world from outside of it.
This is all to say I shouldn't get my hopes up for running being a tool for understanding. It's a contemplative act more than anything else, an excuse to let my mind wander.
Still, it's been helpful for building my mental map of cities.