Running on Ice

This is the entrance to the Wissahickon at Northwestern Avenue. Joy and I like to park at this entrance when we are setting out to do a longer run, since we are often too tempted to retreat to the car when we park in the middle entrance. The advantage of the middle lot are the restrooms at Valley Green, which prevent me from having to do a "bear in the woods" routine, especially on UC mornings like today. But that, I've discovered, is all part of the experience.

The length of the entire trail is 10.6 miles. Though I feel like I know every bend in the road, the seasons change its look entirely, even camouflaging old, familiar hills. Even though it looks slick in this picture, it was 33 degrees, and my friend Jennifer who took a walk on Forbidden Drive yesterday told me the trail had been plowed up ahead. So we ventured forth.

The world felt insulated and quiet without many fellow runners on the path. Some walkers, horseback riders and skiers traveled by. I thought to myself as we started out that it felt like we were up in the mountains and later, how similar to a day on the slopes this run felt. We ran to the sounds of the river rushing around its melting ice, a woodpecker high up in a tree, and the crunch of snow under our feet. Each step felt good. The snow added ruggedness to the terrain, challenged our foot falls, and seemed to cushion our landing. There was so much beauty and feeling, an hour passed before we knew it.

As flurries started to fall, we stepped up our pace, more comfortable and trusting of how the ground would receive us. With my arms low and hands by my hips, I felt a line of energy up my center and through the top of my head, lifting my spirit and conserving my upper body energy so that my cold lower body muscles could churn out their work. I felt like a gazelle - legs strong, turning over fast, keeping pace, moving me forward. It was a rewarding finish to the morning, and agreeably the best run of 2007 so far. Look out NYC, here we come...