My favorite part of visiting a new place is getting to run a new route. There is no better way to see a city. Get up early before the day begins, explore while everything is still quiet, then grab a coffee on the way back. It is the perfect way to start a day of offsite work meetings or a vacation.
At home, it is almost the opposite. There is comfort in knowing exactly where I am going. Over the past several years, the majority of my runs have been spent in my neighborhood, doing loop after loop to add up the miles. Look at my Strava activity, and you will mostly see the same rectangle traced over a satellite image again and again. But when I look at that route, I see a lot more than a rectangle.
A simple 1.12-mile loop. What could there possibly be to it, right? Turns out, quite a bit. The first quarter mile can be tricky, but it does come with a much-needed 100 feet of shade and a slight downhill. Once I make the turn onto the long stretch, things get more interesting.
There are off-road sections where the sidewalk has been taken over, rolling hills, geese that think they own the sidewalk near the neighborhood pond, and dogs that manage to catch me off guard, especially in the dark. Some sections have sidewalks, some do not, and there are even spots where my watch insists I am running slower than I feel. If the 1.12 mile loop starts getting boring, I can change it up with 1.8, .8, or even 2.4 mile versions. I have done up to a 50K in the neighborhood, so at some point you have to get a little creative.
There is something about becoming a runner that makes you a quasi-expert in measuring distance. I have run these loops so many times that I really do not need a watch to know where I am. The second turn is about a quarter mile. By the third, heading up the hill, I am around .6. When I hit the fire hydrant, I have about a quarter mile left. From the street that runs parallel to mine, it is a tenth of a mile back to the driveway. Add an out-and-back on the middle road and the loop becomes 1.8 miles. Do that twice and I can stretch it to 2.4. Need a shorter loop for speed days? I already know which turn cuts it down to about .8. I have done it enough that the distance is just there in my head now.
There is a lot to like about the loop, especially if you are as routine-oriented as I am. I can turn my mind off. No need to remember when to turn, no worrying about traffic, no random stray dogs to dodge. My biggest challenge is usually getting around the weekly landscaping crews and whatever construction project is currently tearing up a front yard.
It is quiet, for the most part, and there is no need to drive somewhere just to run. I can step out the door and go. By far the best part, though, is that I pass my house often. More importantly, I pass my bathroom often. That has been a game changer on long runs. There is a certain peace that comes with knowing you are never more than about half a mile from a bathroom at any given moment. And those moments seem to come up more often than I would like.
But it is not all good in the hood. There is little to no shade on the route, so summer runs offer no real escape from the heat. You are in it from the moment you leave the house until you get back. Then there are the couple of groups of dogs that lose their minds every time I run by. Somehow I still forget they are there and get startled more often than I should. There are also the small uphills that should not be difficult but manage to zap my energy every time. The route certainly lacks some of the excitement of getting out on the open road, and then there is the goose poop covering the back straightaway. I know exactly where all of these things are. That does not mean I like them any more.
I have run this loop in the heat of summer, the crisp of fall, torrential downpours, and even seven inches of snow. It has seen pretty much every version of me as a runner. Easy runs, speed work, long runs, good days, bad days, maybe even shirtless Dave in the wee hours of the morning. It has heard me singing random songs no one else can hear, questioning every step on the bad days, and feeling like I could run forever on the good ones. A lot of my running journey has happened on these same streets, for better or worse.
I keep coming back to this loop because it is easy. There is no need to plan a route, only figure out how many loops I need. I can step right outside my door, check out of work for lunch, and get started. I know what I am going to get, which probably helps because I am not exactly known for loving change. At this point, the route is familiar enough that I do not have to think much about it. I just run.
The only thing I still wonder about is what the neighbors think when they see the same crazy person running loop after loop past their house.