There is no shortage of nice dirt roads to run in the rural area where I live in Central PA. But there is a particular route I enjoy the most. It's familiar and I know what I should be able to expect from my body as I bound over the terrain. It's a mile and a half of gentle downhill or flat running with only one mildly demanding hill followed by a mile and a half of steady uphill and two challenging hills. (And there's no shame in walking I say to myself frequently!) It's a good workout that I can knock out in about 35 minutes. From this basic route there are ample possible additions to increase the run by any number of miles. I trained for a half marathon using this basic route and its variations earlier this year.
Many runners I know don't enjoy running over the same ground day after day, week in week out. They complain that always running in the same place is boring. Perhaps. But over months of repetition it is more like being in the company of an old friend than performing a tired routine. The most surprising thing about this road is that it is always changing - every day it looks different. With four distinct seasons there are of course the obvious shifts - weather being the most noteable. Though the real changes are those that are not among the obvious. Once a year the township grates the road, oohh, aahh. At another time, they cover it with gravel (ugh!) at which time it become an obstacle course. In the spring the fields are worked with liquid manure (perfume, we call it out here) and later turned under. Another run and they've been planted with either corn or hay or clover. Week by week the crops grow. By later summer I can't even see over the tall corn stalks that line the road. I think of all the scary movies I've seen where people are trapped or lost in corn fields. Then one day, the fields will have been harvested leaving only brown stalks stick up a foot in the dark, rich soil. The fall colors across the hills are stunning. Another palate has been painted. In the early morning fog layers the valleys between the hills. Everything seems so crisp and clean. Running mid-morning in the summer requires the companionship of my best friend, DEET. I giggle to myself when I think how it must look to see this middle aged woman zig-zagging all over the road while beating off deer flies with a baseball cap.
And then there are the other, more tame animals with whom I share the road. The birds vary from very small to the very noisy. The larger hawks that sit on big round hay bales and watch for scurrying mice on newly hayed fields and the huge blue heron that sits unmoving in the creek at the end of the road are particular favorites. Ground hogs are considered a nuisance by the farmers but to me they are just fellow inhabitants of this lovely stretch of country road. This spring as the ground began to thaw and the buds grew to bursting on the trees there appeared a litter of young red foxes. My husband and I reckoned that the nest was near a shallow gully with a stream that runs under the road. Undisturbed they played in the lightly traveled road, always staying near to home base. Mama fox was always well hidden though doubtlessly close by. Any sign of another life form or engine noise would cause them to scatter into the safe cover of roadside brush. But the days grew warmer and longer and there have been no more sightings.
This week as the leaves began to fall from the trees en masse, a most unusual sighting occurred: a small litter of mountain lion cubs. Playfully romping together and bounding over one another, twice they were seen in the early morning hours. While I've seen these interesting animals only by car and so far not on foot, I am keenly aware of exactly where I saw them. Seeing them from the safety on an enclosed car is probably a good thing; I'm not sure how momma mountain lion would feel about an up close encounter with (dinner) a lone runner and her cubs. Actually, I'm far more afraid of the animals behind the wheels of their vehicles that don't seem to notice that runner they almost hit as they zoomed by! Nonetheless, as I run I train my eyes round particular bends in the roads and strain to see as far ahead as I can in hopes of a National Geographic moment! In truth, I'm happy to settle for curiously peering down the newly created wear paths marked by the broken stems and tall grasses from these young, wild residents with whom I share this road. This ever-changing, never dull, never boring three miles of God's perfection.
