Rails to Trails

Wichita, Kansas

Jude, JP and I are in Wichita, Kansas for her cousin - David Walker's - wedding.  More on that later.

This morning, I left the hotel room at 7:30 a.m. and drove down the road to a bike path that runs along the interstate.  I parked the rental minivan at real estate office near where 13th Street splits the bike path, stretched, tuned my iPod to a podcast of a recent "This American Life" (Ira Glass) and started my run.  It was already hot, with a high temperature of 105 degrees (!) expected. 

I ran east on the bike path and after a half mile, I stumbled upon a gravel path that interstected with the bike path, running perpendicular to it as far as I could see, right and left.  I ran in place for a minute, looked around, then turned right and off I went down the gravel path.  As I ran, completely engrossed in the podcast of "This American Life," I wondered about the origins of the gravel path.  I found an answer when I noticed some railroad ties on both sides of the path as I crossed over what looked to be a small, concrete bridge of some type. 

Smiling, I said to myself, "rails to trails."  It's a program where old, unused railroad tracks are converted to trails to be used by hikers, runners, mountain bikers, etc.  I ran out and back - a total of 5 miles - in the early morning heat, then sat on a bench in a nearby cemetary to stretch, cool off and just unwind a bit.  One of the things I like the most about running in an unfamiliar locale is discovering interesting routes, sights to see or, occasionally, an off the beaten path trail.  Some of my most memorable runs have been when I'm on the road, unsure exactly of where I'm going, and just running.

Many, many years ago (in another life, really), I got lost in Boulder, Colorado, when I went on a long run before the first day of a trial academy I was attending for work.  I ended up running 10 miles or so before I found my way back to the dormitories and hurriedly showered, arriving a little late to the first day of class.

I got lost in Washington D.C. (see a theme developing here?) on a run in bitterly cold winter weather (around 15 degrees).  I ran from our hotel to the Lincoln Memorial, up the stairs to get a really good look, then to the Washington Monument and back, only to discover I wasn't exactly sure where our hotel was located.  A litte embarrassing and a longer run than I had planned, but an awesome run nonetheless.

I had a top 10 run in Sonoma, California, a few years back, when Jude and I were there to attend her cousin's wedding.  It was an out and back run and I never got lost, but I vividly recall running up a dirt road past acres and acres of grapes growing at wine vinyards, stopping occasionally to pluck a handful of graps off a vine to eat as I ran.  I finished that run on a bike path that ended at the town square in Sonoma, which I just fell in love with during our stay there.

In Knoxville of all places, on a run I discovered an unpaved, muddy bike trail at Concord Park, less than a mile from Jude's parents' house.  I'd probably run through Concord Park 25 times before happening upon this particular trail.  I had not idea where I was going or where the trail went, but I followed it for 4 or 5 miles, along Lake Loudon, before finding a branch that took me back to the park and home.  Strangely enough, I've never run that trail again, partly because I wouldn't be able to capture the same feeling I had the day I discovered it in the first  place.

I've had phenomal runs in Edinburgh and Inverness (Scotland), San Jose (Costa Rica) and Tortolla (Virgin Islands). 

The list goes on and on, really.  That's why, I guess, I always bring my running shoes with me when I go on a trip.  There's almost always a memorable run waiting for me, if I just go out and look for it.