Gut-wrenching have been my days of late. Far too long have the flatlands of Suburbia tormented my soul. Too long has the sight of its subdivisions snatched the creative ability from the depths of my mind. And yes, far, far too long have the concrete suburban sidewalks stolen the strength away from my ankles. This is no review of Terry Hershey Park. Nay, this is a review of the narrow winding dirt paths on the far side of the bayou. The paths only tread by the runners with guts. The paths that connect us once again to our ancient ancestors, the ultra runners of old. Yes, I speak of the curiously named "Ant Hills" of Terry Hershey Park. A place that will always be remembered in my mind as the trails which rescued my soul from the depths of suburban hell.
I regrettably hail now from Katy, a rather large suburb with near nothing to offer in trail running. I've spent my runs zig zagging up and down the rubbish ridden river which the locals refer to as the bayou. It's foul smell brings tears to my eyes. I abandoned all hope in Katy, resolving to search elsewhere. My research led me to Terry Hershey, yet with no high hopes. However, my hopes proved far too low.
Compared to the absolutely dreadful topography of Houston, the Ant Hills were mountains. They climbed up and down, winding left and right through the trees. For a time, I had forgotten I was in the concrete jungle of Houston. And while forgetting one thing, I remembered another much better.
Running up and down the banks of the bayou on those single track trails, something happened inside. I journeyed deep into the center of my soul, searching tirelessly for something, yet not quite knowing what. Then finally, I found it. The joy I once treasured long ago. It was the ecstasy of running. The feeling that had long laid captive by the dark suburban forces at work. There, running up and down those single tracks, I rediscovered the feeling of freedom that accompanies the trail run. It is the elation that escapes all pain and stress. It is the overwhelming gladness that convinces you that everything is just all right. It is the conviction of invincibility within. Nothing can conquer you. It is the overflowing joy that never fails to bring me back.
The great Ant Hills helped me immensely that day. In many ways, they did indeed set me free... Free to once again enjoy that feeling of freedom. I can assure you, it is a great feeling. One that outmatches the feeling of any runner in the suburb, who shoves in his earbuds to gut out his 5 mile run on the concrete sidewalk and dreads it every time. The Ant Hills set me free to once again run for the joy of it. read more