Always a runner…

Another late afternoon New Years’ eve run, nothing ceremonial. Just another afternoon run. Another year tied together by a string of runs. Maybe not as frequent as past years, but running is still the lanyard of my days. I usually run most New Years’ eve afternoons. My employer lets us leave early so I can get a run in before the sun sets.

Running down the trails, the sun is setting as I crest the last hill and head towards home. The run is unmistakably the same. The sights, the sounds, the scents, albeit a tad bit slower, are unchanging. It’s the end of 2008, but it may as well be 1978, 1988, 1998…

That’s the time machine effect of running. Today’s run in my 60 year old body feels almost the same as the 30 year old, running this trail in 1978. Notice I say almost, as the speed, ease, fluidity may be somewhat changed, but the feel, the sights, sounds, smells…the joy is still there. Happy 2009…or it is 1979? Sometimes on the trail, it’s hard to tell.

You’re running trails in the middle of nowhere. You see a runner approaching in the distance. They are coming your way. You are now a few feet away. You look at them, you get ready to give a smile and some brief greeting in passing, but they keep their gaze straight ahead, not even acknowledging you. “Nice talking to you,” I mumble as they whiz on by.

Now is this me, or is this scenario becoming more frequent? Is this just a sign of the times? In the past, seeing another runner, especially miles from civilization, would be cause to greet them with at least a hi, a wave, or perhaps some pleasantry in passing.
I do notice that runners under 30 are most often the culprits. Not all, but most. This, as you can tell, is hard for me to understand. We all share common traits, experiences, highs and lows.

Of course on the most popular trails, paths, you can’t say hi to everyone you see, but when you’re out in the hills, on the trails, deep in the forest, miles away from civilization, and you see a fellow runner coming towards you, give them a wave. Even a “way to go,” would be pleasant.

On your next long run, far away from the crowds, and you come upon a runner and you pass them without some kind of acknowledgement, don’t be surprised to hear a sarcastic, “nice talking to you.”