Can't Go Back Home

I was visiting my sister over the 4th holiday weekend. I decided to go and run the loop I always trained when I first started running. It was(is) about a 3.5 mile loop which included a long hill which I called Mead hill. Named for the access to Mead Papermill. I drove up the driveway to the house I grew up in. The driveway is much shorter than I remembered. The house is occupied by the late Pastor's wife. After a brief introduction and her remembering me, I asked if I could park in the yard to make my loop. She was very nice and friendly as always.
As I stood at the same mailbox my Dad used, I reflected on the differences. I stood now to allow my GPS to aquire the needed satellites to begin my run instead of just taking off. Instead of going over music in my head, I cranked up the Ipod to chill a little.
A little over a quarter of a mile down the road (which is much better surface than 27 years ago), I encountered 3 large dogs. I was never afraid, but the adrenaline did kick in for a short time. I really thought that I would be attacked by 2 of them. I bluffed my way around them and continued on.
About 2 miles into the run I passed the new (about 7 years old) McDonald's. Never had an option for a Big Mac back in the 80's. I began the long torturous climb up Mead hill. Maybe it was the years of running or maybe the hill had been amplified in my stories over the years, but I made the hill with the Heart rate just in the Threshold range.
As I made my way over the rolling hills that I had ran over 25 years ago, I noticed the new houses and changes in the landscape. As I came within 300 yards of the finish, I came up on where my uncle had lived. I was approached again by 3 more large dogs. Again, I thought I was going to be bit. I negotiated my way out of the situation again and finished my run. The GPS showed it was 3.45 miles, so I wasn't far off back then.

I then drove to the city park where I had ran before and where I had helped Larry Williamson (football and track coach) put on the "Historic Stevenson Summer Run" the 3rd Saturday in July. I ran along the trail that He and I blazed to connect the park to the city residential streets. His concern then was so that kids could ride their bikes or walk to the park without getting on State highway 117, a very busy and dangerous highway. We spent several days in the summer of 81 blazing the trail with axes, machetes and other hand tools. I don't think we even used a chain saw.

The trail had been started by the city but ran into a stopping point when they got to the creek bridge. The state would not let them build another bridge adjacent to the highway bridge. The city stopped the project. Coach Williamson, decided to blaze the trail and cross the creek farther north. He recruited several "volunteers" and the city furnished the raw supplies for a bridge across the creek. It was originally made with telephone poles and rough cut lumber. I noticed now the bridge is an all steel construction with concrete footings.

I think the town of Stevenson should name the trail in honor of Larry Williamson. He spent many hours planning and working to make that trail a reality.

I ran up though the small town, and was saddened that most of the stores in the downtown part are abandoned and everything is moved to the new highway 72.
I finished off the run which by now was about noon. The July 4th sun was beading down. I had no time limit or goals, I was sight seeing.

Things have changed, my goals have changed but the drive that keeps me running is still there. I run longer distances and pay more money for races. I can't say that these new challenges are more fun than the old ones. I still have fond memories of some of my old training runs as I make new ones.

Life is a journey, it's what we make it. As I was running in the noon heat, I thought how people would think that I was crazy running in the heat. I was not hot and was enjoying it. Perhaps, even heat is relative. If those people were out there with me, they would think it was hot and complain.

Another lesson in life, when I want to complain, think of the positive side.