As I’ve began my journey of run-commuting when I have to be at work in-person, I have now run South down Halsted (in Chicago) twice now.

West Loop –> Chatham (11 miles down!), and West Loop –> Bridgeport (less :’) ).

Twice now, this portion of my commute has brought up such a unique mix of emotions.

I run from well-developed ~nice~ city parts, through Hispanic Pilsen, over the bridge to Chinatown, followed by increasingly decrepit infrastructure and buildings at a steady rate – through Englewood, to Chatham. Interspliced with two police stations whose entrances are encapsulated by Venezuelan migrant tent camps. Not a lot of greenness on this run to boot.

The mix could be described as such: sadness, pity, anger, frustration, disgust, understanding, judgement, fear. With a dash of happiness (a stranger wishing me luck as I run by, a family unit bonded together amidst the tent camp).

Part of me wishes to avoid this experience altogether. Maybe just bike this part, or run the Lakeshore, even if it means extra miles.

But maybe Halsted Street – at least the way I see it – makes apparent the multiple, interlinked crises we’re currently facing…inequity, environmental degradation, a broad climate crisis, housing, etc.

Fuck! It’s true. Suffering is made apparent on Halsted St. May I use this suffering as fuel for my own generative drive to a progressive, positive, transformational, humble force in this world.