Grass and Long Ago and Prisons

by Greg Rideout

Time: 9:30 a.m.

Weather: Perfect

Route: In Raleigh, up Hunt Drive across from the prison and around the Big Field at Dix, then finishing on the Greenway

Distance: Exactly 3 miles 

Movement nourishes the body. 

Stillness settles the mind.

Today, before running, I stopped to look where I would begin today's journey. Here's a photo. Isn't it quite nice?

A blue and green archway that seemed to say, "okay, one foot in front of the other." So I took off happy, thinking of which way I might go. I thought I might go straight on the greenway, but, no, the cars on the crossroad had a green light, so I went left and up through Dix Park. 

I alternated between grass and asphalt, running along the train tracks that bifurcate the old Dix Park Hospital complex for people with mental illness. I soon swerved from the tracks and pushed over into the Big Field, acres and acres of rolling grass big enough to stage festival shows. 

Today, a lone man flies a drone above the field. I ignore the buzzing sound and feel the soft landing as my feet hit the grass. I imagine I'm alone on the savanna in Africa, tens of thousands of years ago, hurrying home to my clan. This feeling connects me to a not so distant past. We've cluttered our lives here, for better and worse. Running in this way free of roads or paths or timers or words flowing into my ears - well, it nourishes my body's need to feel its place on the earth and in space and time. 

I take my time going around the field. I like this feeling too much to let go. But soon it's time to head back toward the greenway and the end of my run. As I traverse Hunt Drive, though, I am confronted with my state's maximum security prison, one of the few in the country still sitting in an urban area. It's disheartening to contemplate. I say a quick, silent hope for the people in there. I wish we didn't lock up so many, and I am saddened by the poverty, racism and greed that makes this possible. 

Allowing these thoughts in as I finish running is part of why I call this effort, this conversation with you, myzenrun. Running for me allows my mind to open. I am reminded with this instance that we are all alone. I like to think, thought, that we are alone together. Understanding this gives me empathy, and I get better at this understanding each time I move myself through my world, one step at a time.