Of Trails and Art

By John Carlin
WSLS10 Anchor
Published: February 5, 2008

The road is no longer my friend.  Pavement hurts my feet, my knees and the rest of my joints.  Cars are dangerous.  Trucks are worse. 

After thousands of miles running beside the road, facing traffic and obeying the rules, I’ve moved to the trail.

There’s been lots of news this week on the dangers of running on the road, with the death of Roanoke attorney Thomas Farrell.  I made my decision months before, but Farrell’s death confirms my decision was a good one.

The trail has been calling me for some time.  I couldn’t hear it for a while – or maybe I turned a deaf ear.  But I’ve always liked the woods better than the city; preferred the trail to the sidewalk, and Mother Nature’s work to that of civilization. 

There’s something about a path.  Over time paths conform to the easiest way between two points.  Notice I didn’t say the straightest. 

Unlike a sidewalk that goes straight regardless of the terrain, a path curves to bypass high points and obstacles.  It traverses the edges of ravines and switches back and forth to as it leads to the top or the bottom of a long incline.

Some trails are built by experts who know how to prevent erosion and instinctively seek slopes more forgiving to tired legs.  Others are simply the footpaths beaten into the ground by people seeking the easiest way to get there.  The results are the same.

I don’t want to wax on too much, but I’ve always been intrigued by the lines that paths weave through the woods.  Is it just me, or is there some natural artistry to the way the trail meanders?  Is there a mathematical equation someone can point to that says, if the trail rises x amount here, it must curve y amount after z distance? 

If there’s no equation, and it happens naturally, why is there always that sense of proportion? 

The question need not be answered.  The realization that it exists is enough.

Which brings me back to running.  It’s fun to run on these trails.  Unlike the wide open roads the sensation of speed is much greater when the trees, shrubs and grass are closer.

Run around one of those artful corners on a tail covered in pine needles vs. a right angle turn on a hard city sidewalk.  No contest.

I’m sure I’ll run on the roads again someday, but for now I feel more secure and satisfied taking the back way.