DISCLAIMER:   I have no running log to create credentials to

establish any legitimacy to posting, on the other hand there

is a sprig of mistletoe attached to the back of my shorts.

----

Trail maintenance is messing with the running, so I thought
I would run around the block this morning--at least get in two
miles without needing to stop to push something off the trail.

First I have to get over the trauma of being where people can see
me; next is to remember those lights are on cars, not someone's
flashlight coming down the trail. Okay so far--half mile to the
corner and the only thing left behind is a trail of fog that is

disappearing as I run. Up the bike path past the place where all

the pumpkins were. The field has been plowed and all that is left

of Halloween is the broken pieces of orange globes that were

smashed by the disc harrow.

Oliver, the Red-tailed hawk that evaluates us every time we run

around the block, sneers at me again. The puffing increases in

accordance with change of grade (ought to mention that changes

in grade on paved routes are parabolic curves?) as the second

corner is finally reached.  

Right or left? Same distance, but madrona trees and Mt. Baker
one way; the prairie, the strait, and the Olympic Mountains the
other... hmmm... left and along the upper edge of the prairie.

One kestrel is still around. The past three mornings have been
cold enough for frost. Most of the small raptors have gone
south. This one is stubborn or knows the freshly plowed field
holds breakfast and a day of feeding before taking flight for
warmer climes. The bald eagles are in the area, but not on the
nest, way too early.

I'll go up the cemetery trail and down the bluff access trail
just a bit to legitimize posting this in a "trail forum"--even
though that seems to be in jeopardy, discussion, or something.
Should I editorialize this... no.

Three ravens remind me loudly that I am not welcome this early in
the day. The grasses are tall enough and coated with frost.
After a short distance my gloves are soaked with ice water, silly
me. Down the dirt road to the paved road, turn right, pause to
count the black-capped chickadees, 73 of them, maybe, all in the
wild plum tree, pretending to be Christmas ornaments, pretend to
pick up the pace for the last half mile, being careful to not
glance at my watch. Oh great--a yearling cow wants to race.
Cows don't have good running form. If I can keep his attention,
he (boy cow) will run into the corner post... nope, he remembers
from last week. Turn to corner, two tenths to the house. A
familiar warm smile from the window and a coffee cup held up--not
trails, but they will still be there this afternoon.

rgot

John M.

Good stuff.

Sounds similar in parts to where I run. And that is not trail, either, just the access way to the bike path.

I like the mix of "road" (paved or very nicely groomed trails) and trail, it makes things interesting and adds a little high-speed running!

Very nice run, John!

Hey John: Good to read your writing again. Hope to see you at Rocky this year (next year...).