New Year's Resolution Run

It has been a tradition for 15 years, possibly longer, for those of us in the Highlands Roadrunners Club to run on New Year's Day at 9:00 a.m.  I know it has been at least that long because I have photographs going back to 2004, taken either by Skip or Bob.  At Martha's suggestion, I have been posting them on the HRC Facebook page since a week or so before Christmas, day after day, to the enjoyment of some.  "I finally showed up" Mary posted after a few days.  "I miss a lot of those folks. All good company," Glenda posted.

I miss some of them, too.  Gazing at those photos we can see ourselves and our friends as we were way back then, when we were younger and faster, in rain and in sunshine, year after year.  It's a little sad, too, as nostalgia can often be.  Here in the 2004 photo is Richard Tankersley, who died in a tragic accident a decade ago, and Don Paulk, who has also crossed the final finish line, too.  I gaze at these friends, one by one, and remember all of the good miles I have run with Ray (and his dog Kate), and Dale, and Katy, and Thalley, and Brian, and Skip, and Fred, and Morris, and Anthony, and all the rest.  It is a good way to begin a New Year to remember years past, and to be thankful for all of those good miles we have completed together.

We did not watch the Times Square celebration last night; we stayed off the roads, spent a quiet evening at home, went to bed at the normal time.  When I went out to check conditions on our deck as I do every evening before I go to bed, there was a thick layer of ice, blue glazed in the full moonlight.  I had expected bitter cold in the morning, but not ice.  When I awoke this morning there was ice on the car, on the driveway, on the road.  After a call to Bob Sutton and Mayor Pat Taylor, we decided to convene at the usual place and time, if only to have our photo taken and to warn everyone who did show up to use extreme caution, perhaps to walk around the Park a time or two.

A half-dozen cars were abandoned along the Walhalla Road on the way to Town, and it was 10 degrees on my thermometer (and yes, that's a lot of miles on my Honda CRV!).

So I was surprised to see two or three runners already standing outside the restrooms, and more cars arriving as I parked.  It was so slick that we all walked gingerly, except for Carl who was warming up, running back and forth on Fifth Street, and Anthony, who has already run some and ended up completing eight miles.  The rest of us posed for the photo and then eased our way up to Main Street, at Morris's suggesting, where the sun had melted the ice a little, and ran down its length and back again.  A woman was out walking her dog and said, "You're braver than I am!" as Fred and Jennifer and I turned back down Fifth Street.  "We're stupider, I think!" I called back.

Now I gaze at the new photo that Bob took, and I am surprised that there were so many of us - 15!  We had arrived singly and in pairs, a few at a time, and I had not counted heads.

The foolishness of running!  It is nice to know that so many others were reckless enough to brave icy roads just to appear in the annual photograph, to run a quarter-mile or so in the bone-chilling air of a Highlands winter morning, to start the New Year hopefully and courageously.