The running here in Darmstadt is second to none and would have to some of the best in the world. Happiness is best shared though, so I thought I'd do my best to take you for a run here. I'd say close your eyes and read this, but that would be a bit awkward and make the going pretty tough.
So, you're heading out for an easy hour, the first km is on a cinder type surface and winds through the bustling university campus before hooking head-on into the forest. Here's were the fun starts. Everything is bright luscious, floor to ceiling green. Sweet fresh air fills your lungs and you're on a long straight gravel road with grass claiming the middle. A couple of hundred metres along, a single track darts off to the right, you take it. It twists and turns, rising and falling gently as it goes. Nothing so steep as to stunt your pace, but rather smooth and flowing so you can ride easily with small changes in your cadence and stride length. The ground beneath you requires a bit more attention now and your eyes are drawn down from the trees to concentrate on the uneven sandy dirt. It's light and soft in the sun and a muddy rut in the shade - perfect for the wild pigs that have rooted the grassy edges of the track last night. Your senses sharpen, wondering, are the pigs still around? And, could you catch one? Imagine that! Maybe down this track to the left? The excited adrenaline makes you take it, curious to see where it will take you and what you might stumble upon. Realistically though, you have no idea where you are going. North, South, East and West are lost in the mirage of trails within the odenwald. The only way of learning is by running and chancing across landmark pieces to the puzzle. Worst case scenario, there's always the 'Back to Start' button on the Garmin.
Shit. You almost lose it on a rickety log bridge across a quietly bubbling stream. Suddenly your senses change, someone turned out the lights and turned on the sound. The canopy joins high overhead all but shutting out the sun and your ears are filled with the sound of countless seasons of leaves sighing beneath your every step. A few quick strides up the rise and your thrust out into the sun. Your eyes are struggling to adjust to the acre of bright yellow crop to your left and to your FARK! There's two deer! They've seen you first though and are in full flight heading for the coverage of the bush. Instantly the easy jog is forgotten and your throttle is wide open, diving down the first track after them. Your imagination runs wild, spurred on by some prehistoric beast in you and for 5 seconds you're in the chase. Reality then hits you square in the ankle as your tendons creak over an unseen tree root. Calm down and get back to your easy jog.
There's white pollen flowing constantly past your face and big black beetles spotting the track, many having fallen victim to the cyclists commuting on this trail. The track breaks right, skirting around a ancient bomb crater, and you drop down onto a clearing dominated by a small lake where an old man is fishing, with a pole even older than him. This is the landmark you were hunting for, from here you can get home. It's 20 minutes and it surely isn't the fastest way, but at least you know it.
1 hour, 3 minutes and 42 seconds later you're back on your doorstep having just been for the best run of your life. Until tomorrow.
I can't quite deliver on the sights, sounds and smells like Margaret Mahy, but hopefully you managed a glimpse into where I'm trotting every day. To help you paint a picture in your head, some fellas did take this photo while out enjoying the odenwald, European style.
Nugget
