Tracks on Tracks

Yesterday, I started seriously training for the Green Bay Marathon. I'm relatively unemployed, have some time on my hands, I've wanted to run a marathon since starting college, and if I don't do it now, who knows if I ever will.

I've been running regularly since I first got to London, after all, Regent's Park was in my backyard. But yesterday, I penciled in my training schedule and planned out some distanced routes via mapmyrun.com.

This site is fantastic. If you are a runner, or even if you are not and just want to see how long of a walk it really is to the grocery store, this is your most helpful tool. It opened my eyes to some routes I would have otherwise never found, and even experiences I never would have had...like today's.

I mapped out a route that went down a desolate county highway that eventually met up with railroad tracks that I'd follow back home. I can see why hobos love traveling by train. The tracks are peaceful and quiet, carved right through serene wilderness. I came across deer tracks that went right along the rails and undisturbed mounds of snow. It was all so beautiful. I had a hard time keeping my eyes on the tracks to ensure I had good footing. Then as I was looking down at the ground ahead of me, I saw splotches of blood.

I glanced to my left, and there, with his head buried in the snow, was a fox. Perhaps a wolf. I couldn't really tell because of his decapitated-looking state. Stopping my run, I got down on my haunches and just stared at this poor creature. Initially, I tried to piece together his death, CSI style: a few spots of blood on the tracks, a head nuzzled into the snow, perhaps even missing. I couldn't be 100% but I'm sure human intervention had something to do with his death. Upseting is hardly the word. Poor thing.

The head buried in the snow confused me the most. Almost like he knew his time was coming and didn't want any fellow creatures to see the deathly look in his face. It was such a solemn moment, out there on the tracks with only a fox's soul to keep me company. I just stared at him for the longest time. Thinking about...I don't even know what.

I finished my run. Began to stretch and thought it'd be worth it going back to that deceased animal with my camera. A little morose, I know, but (and this is going to sound even more morose) this scene had a certain solemn beauty in itself.

I took my photos. Then heard the familiar sound of a train whistle in the distance. I ducked off the rails, got my fox in the foreground, and watched a train go by closer than I have ever seen one before. I tried to include some pictures with the following video, but the video resolution made them look awful. The music I think fits the moment. Written and recorded by good friend Jim Priniski.