We spent the bulk of the Memorial Day weekend visiting my family in Pennsylvania, where we enjoyed especially superb spring weather, the kind that compels you to shock your skin with sunscreen-filtered sunshine, expose your senses to pollen and cut grass, and reacquaint yourself with insects.
In addition to various boating and canoeing activities along the Schuylkill River, we ran the 5-mile loop at Valley Forge Park for the first time ever. I have walked this hilly route many times over many years, but to run the steep grade changes required a foolhardy courage that I have always lacked. Hiking and XC skiing has given me the confidence to push my body to near-boundless limits.
Fine weather and extreme exercise aside, spending time in Valley Forge Park just felt right, given the Memorial Day holiday. During our run, I gazed on the expanse of rolling fields of grass cuffed by ribbons of bird-filled billowing trees. The fields are empty except for groups of grazing deer. There are walkers, runners, and bicyclists on the concrete trail, passing picnickers, blanket dwellers, and visitors to the various monuments throughout the park.
It is hard to imagine the horrors that these idyllic fields once witnessed. No battle was fought at Valley Forge, but over 2500 colonial troops died while encamped there in George Washington’s army during a harsh winter. They starved to death. They didn’t have proper shoes or clothes. They paid the ultimate sacrifice for a country that didn’t exist, for ideals that were undefined, for a man named Washington who was still just but a man.
Here, in Valley Forge park! Impossible to imagine! The weather is warm, the deer and birds are serene, and the only suffering and courage is knotted in the faces of runners as they ascend and descend the harrowing hills of Valley Forge. (Pictured below is me at the church in Valley Forge park, post-run).
