Rumors of a snowstorm headed this way, or some kind of nasty mix of snow and ice over the next 48 hours. If I was going to get any outdoor running in this week, today might be the only day. I brought my running gear to the office, and headed out at lunch. It was 27 degrees and sunny, with almost no wind. Downright pleasant. The run out and back to the Reservoir has become my default run. In the winter, especially, it is usually the best bet. Once you get beyond the quarter mile run on the National Road, past the grinding noise of trucks accelerating as they leave town, and turn onto Shadyside drive, it is peaceful, quiet, and virtually traffic free. The road to the reservoir is a patchwork mix of chip-and-seal asphalt and crushed stone. The road runs up the middle of a small valley, sheltered from the fiercest winds, when that is an issue. The first half mile is forested, then it opens up to farmland. From campus to the reservoir is about two miles, so the round trip is four. But on days when I struggle to find motivation, I tell myself my run is only two miles, then a rest to take in the view of the reservoir, some easy stretching lying on my back on the dock, eyes focussed on the sky.
Then a second simple two miler back to town. But I don't even think about the second one when I'm starting out. It's just two miles to my little place of peace.
Of course today, there would be no yoga stretches on the dock, as it is covered in snow. And the patches of compressed snow and ice on the road means that I spend much of the time getting there looking at the ground. It was a slog today. Every small hill seemed to be a strain, and the downhills brought little relief, as they required extra care watching my footing. But I did get there. I walked out on the ice, and found a small corner of the dock that had been cleared of snow, and sat down to listen. The sound of water flowing into the drain pipe was the dominant sound. A low hum of traffic from I-70, two miles south, was noticeable but muted. And assortment of bird calls completed the scene. I can't name any of them by ear, and think that I should probably learn that skill.
Meetings and office hours called, so I headed back over the hill and began the second two mile run. In the woods just north of the S-bridge, I noticed an old stone structure--a wall or a dam--I had not seen before. The best thing about winter is what it reveals that summer hides. It is impossible for a winter walk in the woods not to be a walk of discovery. I stepped off the road and climbed up onto the crumbling rock structure, expecting to find, perhaps, that it was meant to retain water in a small, manmade pond. But it turned out to be an old road bed. Looking north and south from on top of it, you could see the path of the original road, highlighted by the snow. I had run by this spot hundreds of times. In warmer months, the stone structure was hidden, and even were it known to me, crossing over to it would have meant battling through briars. But in mid winter, it was easily accessible, and the simple act of stepping a few feet off the road revealed an airy avenue long forgotten.
The link below shows the route to the reservoir.
http://www.sanoodi.com/route/wkerrigan/reservoir-run/2007-02-13/06-00-00/
Then a second simple two miler back to town. But I don't even think about the second one when I'm starting out. It's just two miles to my little place of peace.
Of course today, there would be no yoga stretches on the dock, as it is covered in snow. And the patches of compressed snow and ice on the road means that I spend much of the time getting there looking at the ground. It was a slog today. Every small hill seemed to be a strain, and the downhills brought little relief, as they required extra care watching my footing. But I did get there. I walked out on the ice, and found a small corner of the dock that had been cleared of snow, and sat down to listen. The sound of water flowing into the drain pipe was the dominant sound. A low hum of traffic from I-70, two miles south, was noticeable but muted. And assortment of bird calls completed the scene. I can't name any of them by ear, and think that I should probably learn that skill.
Meetings and office hours called, so I headed back over the hill and began the second two mile run. In the woods just north of the S-bridge, I noticed an old stone structure--a wall or a dam--I had not seen before. The best thing about winter is what it reveals that summer hides. It is impossible for a winter walk in the woods not to be a walk of discovery. I stepped off the road and climbed up onto the crumbling rock structure, expecting to find, perhaps, that it was meant to retain water in a small, manmade pond. But it turned out to be an old road bed. Looking north and south from on top of it, you could see the path of the original road, highlighted by the snow. I had run by this spot hundreds of times. In warmer months, the stone structure was hidden, and even were it known to me, crossing over to it would have meant battling through briars. But in mid winter, it was easily accessible, and the simple act of stepping a few feet off the road revealed an airy avenue long forgotten.
The link below shows the route to the reservoir.
http://www.sanoodi.com/route/wkerrigan/reservoir-run/2007-02-13/06-00-00/
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