And I Kept Running

Names of people and locations have been changed

When I was in middle and high school, I ran cross country. For those unfamiliar, cross country is a sport where a group of people run up to 7 miles in a long-distance race. Unlike in Track, where it's around on a, well, track, cross country is instead done on long trails through grass, forest, whatever else is put on the course.

I was what's sometimes known as the "Anchor" runner for my team, meaning that I wasn't going to be one who was winning races, but I was the pace-setter for my team. I was able to run consistently, and that meant that as long as everyone else kept either ahead of or in-pace with me, we were going to have good times overall.

As I've talked about to anyone who will listen: I grew up in the rocky mountains, heavily isolated, and surrounded by a sea of unexplored forest. I quite literally grew up in the place David Lynch cited as his inspiration for Twin Peaks. Many things I grew up with thinking they were normal are usually met with shock (and sometimes fear) from those in my life now. I don't say this to be edgy, but it's been a hot minute since providing some framing.

Every day of practice was simple: Run 1 mile for warmup, then run 4-7 miles as assigned by our coach on any of the various routes she had designed throughout the area, followed by another mile run for cooldown. I liked it. The natural beauty of living in the mountains plus being able to just run and think meant that I got a lot of time to just...well, vibe.

I had a few favorite routes when running, but my absolute favorite was the Sandy Beach route. This was a 5 mile run, which started at the High School on east end of the town, went back into downtown, across it, past The Island and further out the other side of town, and down to secluded beach area. We would all run to the beach, take a dip, and run back; totally dry by the time we were back at the high school.

My second favorite route was North Park.

Where I grew up was so far up in the mountains that a majority of the town was built on an incline, and at every edge of the town was a thick border of pure, thick, overgrown forest. Roads suddenly ended into small fences and footpaths set up by the local and National Forest Service. North Park was one of those places: you started at the high school, headed west, but unlike the Sandy Beach route you went upwards into the town's incline (downtown was, literally, the lowest part of town before it met the river). You ran through some residential areas until you hit one of those road-ends that became the forest trails known as North Park.

Today's run was overcast: clouds overhead made the run up to the trail gray and slightly gloomy.

From here, you had to have some knowledge: these trails aren't actively maintained like bigger parks, they have signs and info panels that haven't been touched since the 70s, at least. Rotting wood fences and fallen trees are something to keep an eye out for. At the start of the trail to North Park, you followed a basic foot path for about 2 miles, passing the broken-down remnants of exercise stations that were placed as something to do along the trail. At the 4th exercise station your path would split in two, but this wasn't as complicated as you might think: this was the start and end to the same trail: fully designed to loop you back to the starting point.

The old exercise stations would instruct you to take the right fork in the path, so that's what I did on that day. Remember, as the anchor, I was slower than everyone else, so by the time I had made it to North Park, everyone else was well into the forest. I wasn't worried, though, as even after the fork the trail crosses over a few more times in a figure-8 style pattern, coming out of the forest briefly at each cross, so I was sure I'd be seeing some people.

Not too long after the fork, the density of the forest dramatically increases: it gets pretty dark even on sunny days, meaning that the overcast weather of that day meant it was going to be...darker.

Soon after that, it started to rain, lightly. The drizzle was audible hitting the trees above me before I felt the raindrops hitting my skin as I ran. This isn't something I couldn't handle.

At the first of the "figure-8" crossovers, as predicted, I ran into Karrie. Karrie was a runner in another division, so we ran separate races. We weren't particularly close, but we spoke off and on in a friendly manner. I asked if she was ahead of everyone else, it was possible to miss everyone due to the distance between crossovers, but I was still curious. She told me that yes, she was ahead of everyone today, and warned me that new tree had fallen in the Last Loop (the final loop of the trail, a fork mirroring the start, before you went back through the crossovers), and that I should be careful. I thanked her, and she told me to pick up the pace, as staying out in the rain too long would be a bad idea.

As she ran back towards the Trailhead, I continued further through the crossovers. Soon, thunder began to rumble. That wasn't ideal, but I was a teenager with a flair for the dramatics, so I resolved to complete my route today.

The second crossover is where I met a majority of the rest of my team, we exchanged words, and continued on our ways. At this point the rain had soaked us all.

The third (and final) crossover before the Last Loop opens up the trail into a wide clearing, with power lines and towers looming over; the only thing amidst the grass. It feels....important. No roads or trails went through the clearing, this trail only cut through an edge of it. Without trees, I was briefly hit with the full-force of the rain, and I was glad to duck back into the tree's coverage as I made my way further. Here is where the final exercise station is placed, with a wooden setup for incline-situps. The wood was so fragile that I could have broken it; it was a miracle no one had.

Once I was back into the woods proper, I entered the Last Loop. I want to set the scene for the area. The Last Loop isn't large, about the side of half a football field, where the trail forms the loop. In the center of this area is a smaller clearing, but it is nearly entirely taken up by fallen and broken up trees, which all form a giant pile. The trees in this area over the trail, but the wood pile was fully open to the rain.

Stepping into the last loop, though, something was......different. The rain had suddenly cleared up into a soft mist, and a light fog was filling the area. The smallest amount of sunlight peaked through the center opening above the wood pile. The light hitting the fog gave the area a very...ethereal feeling, and I have to say I enjoyed it. I did my quick jog around the Last Loop, and exited it, making my way back to the clearing. My run was now halfway over, and I'd be taking each crossover back on the other side until I was back at the trailhead.

When I entered the large clearing, the rain that I thought had stopped due to the condition of the Last Loop had instead turned into a full-on downpour. The rain formed thick sheets, and the sky had gone nearly black. Running out into this clearing meant that I had no protection from the trees, but if I wanted to be fully out of it, I had to finish my run. I continued to jog into the clearing path as thunder rumbled loudly above me.

About halfway down the clearing path ahead of me, I saw someone else jogging. Even in the rain, it was easy to recognize the hoodie bearing our team logo-this one someone from school. I couldn't quite tell who it was, or how they were somehow so close to me, I had been quite a distance behind everyone else as far as I could tell. I quickened my pace to catch up this teammate, as I called out to her, she slowed her pace, I imagine it must have been alarming to have someone yelling at you during such a downpour.

When I caught up, I saw it was...Karrie.

Even in the rain, my surprise was...clearly palpable. She was nearly finishing the North Park trail as I was starting it, had she come back for another round? This wasn't unheard of, sometimes certain members of our team would go on extra long runs. The rain was relentless, and we were still in the clearing, but both of us began to slow our pace, stopping as we entered the forest again. We turned around to face the empty field and the downpour.

We both stood in silence, listening to the rain. I spoke first:

"Did you see anyone else?"

"No, I think I'm behind everyone, cuz of my ankle, you know?"

"Yeah."

A pause. She continued.
"A new tree fell down in the Last Loop"

"I saw"

More silence. The rain and thunder becoming white noise. Neither of us had made real eye contact, both looking out at the clearing.

Karrie broke the silence again.

"I think...I'm lost." She stated. It didn't seem to be directed at me. She stepped out into the clearing trail, backwards from where we had both just come from.

"...okay." was all I could manage. I wasn't scared, I wasn't confused, I....was at ease.

"Pick up the pace, you'll get sick out here if you stay too long." she told me, and began to jog towards the Last Loop.

"You too." I turned and made my way back into the forest.

The forest did its expected job of keeping the rain mostly off of me, and as I made my way through the crossovers what was once a downpour become nothing but a drizzle, followed soon by the skies clearing and the sun peaking through once more. By the time I hit the start of the trail a light fog was all that was left of the rain. I ran back through the residential streets at my usual pace, and upon arriving back to the highschool I saw my teammates finishing up their cooldown runs. Karrie was there, talking to some of her friends, hardly surprising.

When I eventually return to my home town, North Park is on my list of stops I want to see again. I want to wait until rain is forecast, in the mid to late fall, and take a walk through all the crossovers, up to the last loop, and maybe get myself a little lost.

It sounds nice, I think.