October 17 Run -- the old standby

By Greg Rideout

Time: 10 a.m. 

Weather: Nice, about 60F

Route: Reedy Creek Greenway Trail Raleigh to Walnut Creek Trail 

Distance: About 3 miles or so 

 

The Old Standby held me in close today as I figured out how to begin this conversation with you.

 

I label my runs Zen runs because I believe there's a value in being in the space I'm in as I run. To feel the ground through my feet and up through my legs and into my heart. To notice the surroundings: wet ground, brown grass, bright blue sky or the myriad of other details that make up my run. It's a way to think about being here, and thus to contemplate being human. 

 

This run today started wonderfully, with a greeting to my neighbors as I walked down South Street in Boylan Heights, Raleigh, North Carolina, USA. "Off to run," I said. I've said that so many times to so many people. But today it gave me a greater thrill. I knew I'd mention it here, in my conversation with you.

 

The Old Standby is the run I take down the Raleigh Greenway from my house. I'm going to take a lot of different routes as I take my Zen runs here. But, this one is special. I get to go through two tunnels. I look forward to the tunnels. There's a coolness when I enter. I like the tunnels on very hot days. I also like the echoes of my feet as I pass through. It's a reminder that my feet trudge on, doing the good work, and they want a bit of applause. Sometimes I say, "way to go feet" when I hear them in the tunnels. 

 

There are also three creeksides I run by. Each offering chances to see fast water when it rains or familiar rocks and paths. Sometimes I see people in the creeks, but not often. Bridges cross the creeks twice. When I go over a bridge, I feel as if I'm on a journey. They demarcate one place from the next. The bridges fire my imagination, and sometimes I am hundreds of yards down the path before breaking the reverie of the journey dreams in my head. 

 

Today I ran easy. Sometimes I run not so easy at all, with an ache here or a slowness that tells me I might just stop and not run. I almost always pull through that, but sometimes I don't. I'm always okay with that. I know I'll run again. I glided along, passing children in the tunnel -- and I got to hear delightful screaming and the laughs at echoes that children hoped to hear. Adults often forget to scream for fun. Screaming for fun lifts the spirits. I guess it reminds us we are here, or that we are not alone. I didn't scream today. But I hope I remember to scream and hear my echo tomorrow. 

 

I finished the run strong. I like to challenge myself at the end. I don't always sprint, but I like to. Today I sprinted the last couple of hundred feet. I pulled air into my lungs to push fast. I love that feeling. The one of air in the lungs. It's the giver of our existence, and today I amped that up by moving fast. What a great thing. What a great run.