I ran over the overpass just outside my neighborhood this morning. I was looking down at the sidewalk. I’ve heard it’s best to look a little ways out ahead when running. Supposedly it can make one run faster. But it has its risks, as you can imagine. On the overpass this particular morning I was looking down. The road is busy. Cars go by at 45 mph, just a few feet to my left, despite the fact that the speed limit is 35. To my right, on the overpass beneath my feet are all kinds of interesting finds. I feel they tell a tale of the city in which I live. A city of 244,000 people of mixed races. A city that sadly experiences a good amount of senseless shootings. A city that houses a corrupt government. Sick people. Poor people. Wealthy too. Public schools and private schools right across from each other. A pretty coastal city. A good place to find work.

I spotted two spray nozzles, the kinds you would find at the top of a bottle that holds disinfectant. However, the bottoms of the bottles were nowhere in sight. The spray nozzles were both yellow. There were several scattered pieces of plastic, one long and black, one round and black, and another shiny and silver colored. I’m not sure exactly how they would have fit onto a car but they looked like they could have come from a battered vehicle. I saw a COVID mask, one of the blue medical ones. Dirty, of course. Intermingled in the debris was a discarded plastic prescription bottle. Whenever I see one of those lying around I wonder what pills had previously been inside. It’s interesting to think that whatever drug it was had been well-studied and was now in some way affecting or at least had at one point, affected a human being. Hopefully for the better. A tethered t-shirt was among the rubble as well. A quarter rested on the sidewalk. It looked to be tails-up. I thought about picking it up, as it’s kind of rare to find a quarter. But I stop for just about nothing when on a run. Remember as a kid that quarters used to (I don’t really look at change anymore) have cool emblems on them, after each of the 50 states? My husband and I were talking about that the other day. There used to be a big map of the U.S. that kids could press all the state quarters into. It was cool. The Virginia quarter was neat – it had three ships on it and mentioned Jamestown, one of the earliest settlements in America. I couldn’t overlook the cigarette butt on the ground. This whole string of souvenirs made me wonder if someone had just been driving by and dumped a bunch of stuff out the car window. Littering makes me sad. Littering with cigarette butts makes me mad, and I’m not one prone to anger. It’s bad enough people poison their own bodies with cigarettes but then casually flick the carcinogenic remnants out the window as they drive along, soiling the earth as part of their destructive ways. A large blocky building – a church, sits under the overpass, a little ways out. It’s a pretty building and I’m glad it’s there but I have no desire to go there. I was raised in church and stuck with it for a while. I still believe but have difficulty going to church for a number of reasons. I wouldn’t say I’m bitter but thinking back on church does stir up some difficult to deal with memories. So I look to my left. In the break of cars going by I see the sunrise. Beautiful. Hopeful. A glimmering yellow star with arms (rays) stretched wide, like it’s trying to embrace me. There are a few clouds, puffy, pink-tinged and white, casually floating by. I can sense a little taste of fall and it excites me. I look down further, then up, to the giant pole where an osprey has made its home. It used to be an eagle’s home, but I haven’t seen him in a while.

The overpass can be a treacherous part of the run, especially when it’s at the end of a run. The other day the last half mile of my 10.5 mile run was the overpass. It’s tough because it’s an uphill climb. When I feel there’s not much left in the tank. My pace slows and I look down at the ground in front of me. I have to make sure to pick up my feet so I don’t trip. A trip or slip could be lethal, with traffic so close. I also imagine cars running into me and me going flying in the air. Maybe I’d be able to somehow cleave to the silver railings to keep from plunging over the side to the train tracks below. It’d be quite the fall. If I were like James Bond (Daniel Craig) I could just land on the moving train below as if nothing had happened.

I used to travel under the overpass, across the railroad tracks. My husband asked me not to do this anymore, as some delinquents have been known to hang around that area. I’ve also seen cops patrol that area. As a child I was always warned of the dangers of the railroad tracks. There is something exhilarating about them, though.

So now I stick to the overpass. It has its own thrill. And I think the uphill climb makes me a little tougher. It is a blast to experience the downside of it too, a natural boost in speed at the end of the run. In a city littered with spray nozzles, COVID masks, cigarette butts, change. A city where I’ve spent my whole life. A city I still love, and pray for. I city I call home. ~