why I don't run in the woods
I'm going to keep you in suspense about the title- an incentive to read the whole post, or maybe to skip the beginning.
In case you haven't guessed, I like to give minute details of life great importance, and treat supposedly big events like minute details. One of these so-called big events lately is a hiatus from work. I'll just say I'm working on a government funded project, our contract renewal is caught up in red tape, and there's currently no money to pay us. The solution we were handed is unpaid vacation until the contract is signed, which may be days to weeks to months. It doesn't matter so much once summer's over. In the grand scheme of things, this isn't that important, but it has occupied my thoughts and conversations all too much lately, and explains why I have so much free time. However, now that I'm used to the idea, I'm glad to have this time to fill with things such as:
Visits to PA and Cincy
Packing/reorganizing my life
Planning Environmental Management Association events
Playing with the dogs (still dogsitting)
Working out
Reading stacks of unread books on my shelves
Blogging
Helping friends pack and move
Bowling
Picking blueberries
Making blueberry muffins from scratch
Running in the woods (but not anymore)
The problem with running in the woods, besides the isolation, the rugged terrain just waiting to twist my ankles, the many places for psychos to hide, is really that there are too many interesting things to see. You can't just RUN past them, even at my slow pace. Today, I ran past a clump of trees with animals just a bit bigger than fat squirrels climbing up. It was a family of young raccoons. I'm not a big raccoon fan, but when they're away from garbage cans and acting like wild animals, I can start to like them. Of course I stopped and stood there for many minutes, staring down a couple of the bolder ones. I experimented with making different noises, including an attempt at the ones they were making. It didn't faze them or draw them closer. I tried crouching down to appear less scary, but the first hint of movement sent one up an extra foot. Then I remembered reading somewhere that raccoons like shiny objects, so I waved my keys around, and threw one of the nonessential ones on the ground below one of their trees. Then I actually did run one of the short loop trails. I came back as quietly as I could, but the raccoons were in the same positions or further up the trees. The key was still in its place. Of course, I hadn't let nearly enough time go by. And other hikers probably came by during that time. This is why I'm not a real scientist. But my key wasn't that nonessential and I needed to feed the dogs soon, so I left with no new data and a pretty poor workout. However, I do have a new mantra: woods are for walking, roads are for running.

