Tag: Old Plank Road Trail

The Trail Regulars

I have been fortunate to have lived near several great bike/walk/run paths as an adult.  In my early running days, I loved running on the Green Bay Trail in Highland Park, Illinois.  I would typically run this trail from Highland Park five miles out to Winnetka and then return home.  A relocation to the Western suburbs of Chicago presented me with the option of running on the Great Western Trail and the Illinois Prairie Path.  And I have spent more than half of my 35 years running at the local Hickory Creek Nature/Forest preserve paths and the Old Plank Road Trail (aka Old Plank Trail or OPT), where I see lots of locals also out enjoying the paths.

Over those many miles and years, I have seen quite a few faces over and over again.  I call these people “regulars,” and even though I may not know them by name, we are pretty familiar with each other.  Sometimes I will have a brief conversation with them, learn their name, and find out their reason for being out on the trail, but most times we just pass by with a nod or a wave.  I thought that I might highlight a few, some I haven’t seen in a long time, and some fairly new.  So, in no particular order, here are some of The Regulars.

Shirtless Tall Guy – One of the more recent regulars is a tall, fit guy in his 30s who runs shirtless, loping along at a relaxed pace, but I have seen him running fast on occasion as well.  We usually give a brief wave when we pass each other, acknowledging the fact that we are always out on the trail pounding the pavement.  I’m not sure if he runs to compete, or just runs for the pleasure of it.  I envy his effortless-looking gait and often think that he would be a great distance runner if he wasn’t already.

Buford Pusser – In the 70s there was a movie called Walking Tall, telling the tale of a Southern sheriff who meted out justice by carrying a rather sturdy baseball bat-sized stick.  There’s a local guy who walks the trail who reminded me of that character.  I hadn’t seen ol’ Buford on the trail in quite a while, but recently there he was, walking along and carrying the four-foot-long thick dowel rod that he carries like he’s going to have to fend off a wolf pack attack.  I usually run by this guy with caution, but I don’t fear him.

Wrong Side Wheelchair Lady – I encounter this lady all the time in the hilly nature preserve trail and she’s always on the wrong side of the trail.  She used to have a friend who would walk along with her but I haven’t seen her friend in a long time.  Lately, she has been singing classic rock songs at the top of her lungs while pushing herself up the hills.  I’d probably be more friendly to her if she wasn’t always on the wrong side of the trail.

Baby Jogger Mom – This redhead with a wolf tattoo on her back shoulder used to push her newborn in a stroller in the preserve and I would see her nearly every run.  Then she disappeared for a while, later to return with a double-wide stroller and two kids!  But she seems to be fading quickly from the ranks of the regulars, as I haven’t seen her in quite a while.

Mario! – A long-time runner, this guy reminds me of Mario from the arcade game.  He’s been out there as long as I have, and we just keep putting in the miles.

Will County Forest Preserve Lady – An older lady who wears a pullover-type top emblazoned with the logo of the forest preserve is one of the older regulars on the trail.  A taller, thinner lady who I see often on the Old Plank Trail in Frankfort.  There used to be a trail sentinel program run by the forest preserve district, so maybe she wears the pullover from that.  Not sure.

Bill – Mostly a midday runner like myself, I encountered this local guy quite often, usually crossing the railroad tracks where the make-shift path gets me into the nature preserve.  He was always friendly, and at one of the crossings, I took a moment to chat him up.  He said his name was Bill and that he runs about four miles nearly every day.  He doesn’t race and thinks the distances I run are crazy.  But anyway, he’s a nice guy.

Curly-headed Guy – I used to see this curly-headed guy all the time running on the OPT and one day we stopped at a road crossing together and I introduced myself.  He was wearing an Ironman visor and I had to at least say hello to a fellow Ironman.  Turns out his name is Charlie and we are now good friends and follow each other on Facebook.  He tends to ride more than run nowadays, but we are always joking about wanting to be each other when we grow up.

Bike Pusher Guy – I have passed people on bikes while running in the past, and although the speed needed to do that has long left me, but occasionally I come upon Bike Pusher Guy.  This guy is older than me and doesn’t ride his bike very fast, and he always hops off and pushes it up the hills.  Friendly guy, and we see each other often.

Me – I guess I’m a trail regular as well.  I often wonder what others think of me as I jog by huffing and puffing in my sweaty clothes.  Well, if you become a regular make sure to say hello to me because I’m always up for a chat.

Do you have any trail regulars where you run?

Memory Jogger

I just can’t seem to break the injury cycle. I recover and then push myself too hard and then reaggravate the injury or discover a new one. I’m currently dealing with high hamstring tendinopathy, also known to runners as a pain in the butt. My hamstrings are too tight, I hate stretching, and I’m old, a perfect combination for this infliction. So I am back to laying off running and walking instead, and it’s been nice enough during this “fake” spring to get on the bike and ride outside every once in a while.

I have to admit that I miss riding a bike, that is until something reminds me how angry I can get at people on the trail for being idiots. This past week it was a guy who just had to be the guy to run on the wrong side of the trail, which means toward me on the side I am riding on. Everyone else on the trail followed the rules except this guy. I encountered him twice, and both times I had to adjust what I was doing because he was in the wrong position. It’s people like him who remind me why I use only a small portion of the trail to get to the safer roads to ride on. It’s funny that I feel safer riding on roads with traffic than I do riding on the trail. At least most people are following the rules on the roads.

The winds of “fake” spring have been blowing pretty hard lately, often influencing which type of non-running exercise I will do. Today I considered riding, but thought the winds would be too strong. My wife Kari suggested a walk instead, and we both agreed to head to the local tree-lined running path to have a buffer from the wind.

As we walked east I complained about the fact that I once again had overdressed for the day. Not a problem for someone dressed in layers, but it’s never comfortable having to deal with a bulky jacket wrapped around your waist. It wasn’t too long into the walk that I started thinking about all the miles I had put on this trail over a couple decades. I looked up ahead and could see the bridge that spans over Route 45, taking trail users to and from downtown Frankfort, Illinois. I have run and biked over it many times, but today my memory was jogged to a half marathon that I ran several years ago in which the bridge came at the end of the race, maybe about mile 12.5 or so. There’s a hill to the crest to get over the bridge, which pales in comparison to the many hills that this race route had before it, but it comes when you are spent and it is one last challenge before gliding into the race finish. I remembered that my race tactic was to pace hard to the hill, pull back a little heading up it, then hammer it downhill for the last half-mile.

Old Plank Road Trail bridge, Frankfort, IL

Kari and I continued east turning around about 3.75 miles from where we started and walked west into the wind back toward the car. As we passed a local park we both found ourselves examining the empty field and I asked her if she was remembering all the soccer games we sat watching our youngest child Becca play there.

Arriving back at the truck, I hit the stop button on my watch at 7.5 miles and thought about how the trip down this trail had not only given my legs a workout but my mind as well. And given that I had spent two special hours with my partner in life, I think I had just created a new memory to be reminded of the next time I wander east on the OPRT in Frankfort on a windy, almost spring day.

Walking, reminiscing, and making memories.