A great blue heron rises to the right, just off a corner of Bridge 2. My peripheral vision catches the motion, a blur of gray, but I don’t turn to look. Every bit of energy goes into what’s left of this run, less than 600 meters to the end, but with two final climbs. I [...]
Posts Tagged ‘Westwood Park’
Miles apart
Posted in Running, tagged running, Trail running, Westwood Park on September 1, 2011 |
The art of survival
Posted in Haiku, Running, tagged Haiku, Indiana, Nature, running, Westwood Park on January 23, 2011 |
Wingtips and talons leave messages on fresh snow, like Asian brush strokes. Passing over a myriad of footprints left by man and deer and raccoons, I outrun the hikers and move away from the tracks of forest dwellers, until I’m breaking trail through ankle-deep snow. There’s a stillness here, a cleanness, as if the last [...]
A proper medicine
Posted in Running, tagged Indiana, Nature, running, Trail running, Westwood Park on January 9, 2011 |
The geese talk, conversations like popcorn. Five hundred kernels. Maybe a thousand. I’ve covered more than eight miles of trails, running in snow marked by half a dozen hikers and a single set of mountain bike tracks. The wind is calm, yet the chill deepens slightly as silhouetted treetops begin to dissect the sun. In [...]
Winter’s mark
Posted in Running, tagged Indiana, Nature, running, Trail running, Westwood Park on January 2, 2011 |
The lake speaks, the language of early January. Extraterrestrial chatter rises beyond the trees to my left. It’s a voice seldom heard, and today I am not in a hurry. Working my way through the brush, I duck under branches and past spindly arms that snag my jacket with sharp, triangular-shaped claws. Once out of [...]
Sleepless
Posted in Running, tagged Indiana, running, Trail running, Westwood Park on November 29, 2010 |
Just past midnight. Time shrinks. In bed, I set down The Coolest Race on Earth, John Hanc’s book about the Antarctic Marathon. The story both inspires and frightens me. Already I’m running Saturday’s Tecumseh Trail Marathon in my mind. In the cold. Possibly through falling snow. I can envision the woods, with beech trees, the [...]
No better place
Posted in Running, tagged Indiana, Marathon, running, Trail running, Westwood Park on November 5, 2010 |
The snow has stopped, but a biting wind continues to blow across Westwood Lake. The trails are empty, except for two mountain bikers I meet at the Big Dig. We exchange greetings and continue our separate ways. It’s good to be here, running alone in the woods. I stood in the cold earlier today, but [...]
Coach
Posted in Running, tagged Marathon, Relationships, running, Trail running, Westwood Park on October 21, 2010 |
The quote on my wall serves as a reminder. It comes from Barry Magee, bronze medalist in the marathon during the 1960 Olympics. “Anyone can run 20 miles. It’s the next six that count.” On today’s long run I’m re-learning the truth of that statement. Leaves have held my concentration all day. Maple leaves, mostly, [...]
Counting the miles
Posted in Running, tagged Indiana, running, Trail running, Westwood Park on October 4, 2010 |
Alone. Finding rhythm. Deep into Westwood. The lake looks thirsty. Dust inhabits dried mud holes. A gravelly uphill eats my pace. The singletrack traces the lake once again. A chilling breeze skims across the water’s surface. Light rain threatens to ruin the day, then stops. Closing in on the trail head brings me halfway there. Stopping [...]
The worst
Posted in Running, tagged Indiana, running, Trail running, Westwood Park on September 22, 2010 |
The groundhog charges straight toward me. I’m on the last mile, a stretch of bench-cut singletrack with a steeply angled hillside to my left and the lake six feet below an equally angular bank on my right. There is nowhere to go but forward, toward the oversized rodent, which moves amazingly quickly considering its girth, the squat [...]
Continue on
Posted in Running, tagged Indiana, running, Trail running, Westwood Park on September 12, 2010 |
You get used to falling after a while. Maybe not the physical aspect: toe-to-root, thrown-off-balance, no-hope-of-recovering drop. But with unwanted practice, routine replaces surprise. Falling becomes a drill. Tuck. Roll. Rise. Continue on. A bit of the trail clings tight as a reminder, dirt on sweat-soaked shorts and fingerless gloves. Knees sting, scuffed and sometimes bloodied. [...]
