The Loco One

I ran from work yesterday. I have just as many directions to begin my foot travel as anyone else, in any other location, although some are significantly better than others in some respects. I work in a very urban environment, and to escape this, yesterday I decided to travel just under 2 miles north to the Vollintine Evergreen Greenline. This incredible path in the middle of the city is a 1.7-mile cinder-surfaced old railway. It's great to run on, and gives us urbanites another off-road path to add to our favorite joint-saving Overton Park trails.

The most direct path to the Greenline took me up Cleveland, one of our crosstown north-south thoroughfares. This part of town, between midtown and downtown, in the medical district, is very diverse. Midtown is always proud of its diversity, but I would argue that Cleveland Avenue by itself rivals it. I started taking notice of this when a Spanish-speaking man hollered out to me. I usually don't put much thought into what people are yelling at me while I run, but it suddenly occurred to me that my shorts were emblazoned with "LOS LOCOS" across the butt. I can only imagine what the other Hispanics in the area were thinking of me, one of the few Caucasians and definitely the only person running down the street with "the crazy ones" written on her butt.

And what about the other ethnicities? Cleveland is home to one of the best Vietnamese restaurants in town, Saigon Le, among a few other Asian restaurants and many Asian markets, a Latino market, and a Lebanese restaurant. Then there are variety stores, a permanent indoor flea market, Thong's auto repair, a huge abandoned Sears warehouse, and a nail salon on every corner.


Finally, right across from the old Sears building, I reached the trail. This time of year is perfect running weather, even at 4 p.m., when I went. I was met by budding trees and bushes, countless irises, and friendly dogs and their owners. I ran over bridges, next to streams, under a canopy of new spring leaves. I heard no more cars honking, but instead only the crunch of my shoes hitting the cinder. I smelled no more exhaust and fumes, but instead the fragrance of the flowers. I saw no more trash lining the street, but instead flowers lining the trail.

The trail is only 1.7 miles long right now, but if we support the rails-to-trails program in Memphis called The Greater Memphis Greenline, we may in the near future have 13 more miles of (this time, paved) paths to travel on, right in the middle of the city. Go check it out and support the health of your city.