Sand Run park has been one of my regular running haunts since I first started running. The crushed limestone multipurpose path provides a convenient venue for training, with its smooth crushed limestone surface, well-marked half-miles (although recently discovered to be mismeasured ... stupid GPS), and challenging but not killer rolling hills.
However, lately I've been using the park's rough hiking trails for my runs. I can't remember the last time I ran on the more populated path, as I did yesterday.
There were some familiar faces, such as the overdressed guy with the awful posture and the guy who resembles a pre-steroids era Mark McGwire.
Looking back, I realize I exercised some poor running etiquette. I forgot to announce the times I passed people from behind (an old pet peeve) and I passed two fellow runners just before I hit my turnaround point (I could have waited). It seems I've misplaced my manners.
But then again, I was also reminded of how snooty these people are. They looked at me as if I were the Unibomber anytime I waved or nodded or said "hello." On the trails, my greetings are never so thoroughly rebuffed. Don't you people know we're part of a community?
Back on that final stretch, I could feel my quads burning as I chugged up the final slow-rising hill. Looking at my
Happy Leap Day, teammates.