Red right 88. No, no — go long

Calling an audible is a time-honored tradition.

Sometimes you step to the line of scrimmage with a certain play, but at the last second, a better opportunity falls in your lap.

Then there’s only one thing to do. You call an audible.

That’s what happened this morning.

I went out to Fort Ben with the goal of running hill repeats, as I did last week.

But when I pulled into the parking lot, I saw a guy about my age leaning against his car putting on his trail shoes.  He was wearing a Dances with Dirt trail-race shirt. We chatted for a few minutes.

I thought: Hill repeats can wait for another day. It’s not often that I find a kindred spirit in these parts, and when I do, I want to get to know that person.

I asked if he minded some company, and we headed for the trails.

As we trotted along, I learned that he had run a few races I had done myself in recent months, including the Tecumseh Trail Marathon, Run with the Foxes and  several DINO races. So we had lots to gab about.

My new buddy, whose name is Terry, also told me about some interesting trails and races that I had never heard about, including a nine-mile lake loop at Westwood Park about 45 minutes east of Indy. I made a mental note to look into it.

Sometimes it's better to scrap your plan and go with a new one.

When you see a better plan, scrap the old one.

We splashed through puddles as we ran. The trails were still a bit sloppy from weeks of rain, including the Mother of all Hailstorms last night.

As we trotted along, the skies opened up and it started to pour on us. We didn’t care. Trails and mud: it was our natural habitat.

Terry ran slightly faster than me, including on a few uphills, so I got a decent workout — hill repeats or no hill repeats.

We ended up running for 53 minutes. Terry said he would be back tomorrow morning with a few friends to run two-mile trail loops again at Fort Ben, with the goal of running each loop faster.

That sounded like my kind of speed workout. Maybe I’ll see him again tomorrow.


Well, here’s a discovery that could get me kicked out of the Trail Runners Club.

This afternoon, I was cleaning out an old box at home (this being the last day of my vacation — er, furlough) and I ran across my old membership card to the Youngstown (Ohio) Road Runners Club.

Yes, you read that right. Road Runners.

The card was dated 1992.

I guess that was back when I was very young and didn’t know any better.


One Response to “Red right 88. No, no — go long”

  1. Sheridan Says:

    yeah a new local runner! and I do like that you are a card carrying “road runner!”

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