Runner's Block
Had a hard time getting out this morning. I got to sleep in but then just sat at the kitchen table thinking about where to go.
I didn't run for the last two days. Things didn't work out for various reasons. If I had planned better, or gotten more sleep, or circumstances worked out differently, I could have gotten at least a few miles in but twas not to be. I'm not complaining and sometimes I wonder if it isn't for the better, but I'll never know.
Back to this morning, I knew I wanted to go long, I knew I wanted to go different. Running in an area for over ten years now, that is difficult to do. I considered going into Jersey, and learned (thanks to the internet) that pedestrians aren't allowed on the Walt Whitman Bridge (so much for the Marah song). I thought about driving up to the Perkiomen Trail but figured the drive wasn't worth it. Various other possibilities kicked around my head, none of them sounding right and time was moving on.
Eventually a route came to me. It was born of yesterday, where I met some new friends who lived deep in Delaware County and I realized there was much of Delco that I didn't know existed. So, in the footsteps of Christopher Columbus and Neil Armstrong, I plotted a course into the unknown. Unlike them, however, I loaded Warren Zevon's last album into the iPod as an additional incentive to get me out the door.
I ran my usual route out a bit past the Lansdowne Sycamore, 300+ years old and doesn't look a day over 200, and turned right on Providence Road. From here on out it was uncharted territory. To my surprise, I ran into a familiar face - Chantal walking her dogs. Then, like Lewis and Clark, I headed farther west. . . through Aldan, Clifton Heights, and Springfield. Providence Road eventually became Leamy Ave as I headed north across the Baltimore Pike and then took several rights and lefts through the neighborhoods. By this point I was on the alert for seamonsters and dragons.
Instead of writing the rest of the route I'll link to a map of it. Suffice to say I continued through Drexel Hill and ended up in Upper Darby, coming out at Upper Darby High School which, coincidentally, I remember passing on yesterday's car ride through Delco. From there I headed back toward Philadelphia and got a dose of West Philly neighborhoods that contrasted sharply, both in color and in socioeconomics, from the neighborhoods I'd been running through for the previous hour. Then, 19+ miles and 2:3
9:38 later, I made it back home.
People have often asked whether running along Cobbs Creek, especially on the off-road trails, is safe. I usually say yes, as there are no cars along this stretch, but I'll have to reconsider. The picture here shows results from the slashing I got today from a tree branch assault. Totally unprovoked. One more reason why I dislike trails.
In closing, in today's ritual of mapping a course and then running it, I was reminded of the ritual, in Catholic mass, of saying the Nicene Creed. Every Sunday its a restating and reaffirming of one's faith. Though there was no specific ritual I could point to this morning, the motions of mapping out a route and running it felt like that, a restating of my faith. Its been an up and down month running-wise, perhaps because I've bitten off a few more miles than I can yet digest, but I plan to catch up to myself.
I didn't run for the last two days. Things didn't work out for various reasons. If I had planned better, or gotten more sleep, or circumstances worked out differently, I could have gotten at least a few miles in but twas not to be. I'm not complaining and sometimes I wonder if it isn't for the better, but I'll never know.
Back to this morning, I knew I wanted to go long, I knew I wanted to go different. Running in an area for over ten years now, that is difficult to do. I considered going into Jersey, and learned (thanks to the internet) that pedestrians aren't allowed on the Walt Whitman Bridge (so much for the Marah song). I thought about driving up to the Perkiomen Trail but figured the drive wasn't worth it. Various other possibilities kicked around my head, none of them sounding right and time was moving on.
Eventually a route came to me. It was born of yesterday, where I met some new friends who lived deep in Delaware County and I realized there was much of Delco that I didn't know existed. So, in the footsteps of Christopher Columbus and Neil Armstrong, I plotted a course into the unknown. Unlike them, however, I loaded Warren Zevon's last album into the iPod as an additional incentive to get me out the door.
I ran my usual route out a bit past the Lansdowne Sycamore, 300+ years old and doesn't look a day over 200, and turned right on Providence Road. From here on out it was uncharted territory. To my surprise, I ran into a familiar face - Chantal walking her dogs. Then, like Lewis and Clark, I headed farther west. . . through Aldan, Clifton Heights, and Springfield. Providence Road eventually became Leamy Ave as I headed north across the Baltimore Pike and then took several rights and lefts through the neighborhoods. By this point I was on the alert for seamonsters and dragons.
Instead of writing the rest of the route I'll link to a map of it. Suffice to say I continued through Drexel Hill and ended up in Upper Darby, coming out at Upper Darby High School which, coincidentally, I remember passing on yesterday's car ride through Delco. From there I headed back toward Philadelphia and got a dose of West Philly neighborhoods that contrasted sharply, both in color and in socioeconomics, from the neighborhoods I'd been running through for the previous hour. Then, 19+ miles and 2:3
9:38 later, I made it back home.People have often asked whether running along Cobbs Creek, especially on the off-road trails, is safe. I usually say yes, as there are no cars along this stretch, but I'll have to reconsider. The picture here shows results from the slashing I got today from a tree branch assault. Totally unprovoked. One more reason why I dislike trails.
In closing, in today's ritual of mapping a course and then running it, I was reminded of the ritual, in Catholic mass, of saying the Nicene Creed. Every Sunday its a restating and reaffirming of one's faith. Though there was no specific ritual I could point to this morning, the motions of mapping out a route and running it felt like that, a restating of my faith. Its been an up and down month running-wise, perhaps because I've bitten off a few more miles than I can yet digest, but I plan to catch up to myself.
posted by seebo | 4:10 PM
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