Sherwood Forest

Running Up the Hill.

I have always loved to run.

I could never play sports. Can't throw a football, can't make a basket or dribble, can only sometimes hit a baseball because of the time I spent at the batting cages.

But I can run faster than anything.

I think it comes from growing up in the hills. When we were kids we lived about a mile in the woods from our nearest neighbor, and our nearest neighbor that wasn't related was somewhere else. If we wanted to visit we would either climb a hill to get there, or have to climb a hill coming back. Our leg muscles grew.

They filmed a movie called Winter's Bone on the mountain that I am from. When you watch it you see Jennifer Lawrence walking everywhere. That's very accurate, just like the rest of the movie.

We did a lot of walking.

Gym teachers never had any use for me, though. A kid that couldn't throw, catch, or bounce a ball was pretty useless in their eyes. It never occurred to any of them that running was the backbone of any sport. Just give me the ball, and nobody will come near it.

Run, Forest, Run.

Like most of my teachers the gym coaches never saw much to me. I was never even asked to try out for track. But I made sure that they knew I was the best and the fastest. When we would run races they would time us, but I never wanted to hear my time. "I was ahead of everyone else," I told them. "That's how I keep track of how fast I am."

I would go on to a career in the food industry after school, and I gained weight quick. I wasn't the fastest person anymore, and I always missed it.

By the time I gave up drinking I was 75 pounds overweight, and got out of breath climbing a flight of stairs. I was miserable.

But when I stopped drinking I started running again.

Race me now.

At my best in highschool I was running about a couple of miles a day. I could have went further, but I could never pace myself. I don't want to jog, I want to fly. When that backbeat of energy hits me I can't slow down.

Speed over endurance.

The only person that would run with me was Dee's older brother, Roy. Roy had just gotten out from the army a couple of years before, and was used to doing about 30 miles a day with a hundred pound backpack. My couple of miles a day was a lunch break for him.

Roy was one of those people that was always changing his appearance. When I first met him he was a biker. He had bushy long hair and a beard, and was the first person that I ever met with good tattoos, not home made ones. He had a full backpeice, but I can't remember what it was.

Even though he was about five years older than me, we hit it off quick. He taught me how to play backgammon, and I taught him how to play chess.

We also liked to box and wrestle, and he would beat me pretty good at both. Roy could fight.

The one area I knew I could beat him was in a race. But Roy knew it too, and would never race me.

When we ran we would circle Sherwood Forest, sometimes running as far as the prison. It was all up and down hill, with the biggest hill in the home stretch.

We were running one day and were coming up to the last hill when Roy said "Do you still want to race me? Let's start at the bridge, and race to the top."

"You want to race now?" I asked. "How about we rest first?"

"I have been running right next to you this whole time. If I don't need rest, then you shouldn't either."

"Yeah, but I wasn't expecting to run. I was ready to call it for a day."

"Life will always throw something unexpected at you. You might as well get used to it now," he told me. "When I get to the bridge I am going to run. If you want to show me how fast you are, then this is the time. Otherwise I will wait for you at the top."

It was a challenge I had to accept. When we got to the bridge we both started running.

It was the first race that I ever lost.

He waited for me at the top of the hill, just like he said he would.