Someone asked me this week what I would miss the most about living in Williamsport, PA when I leave Lycoming College in May. There were several things that came to mind when I thought about what I would miss the most about the college. But, when I thought about the area in general, the beautiful, deciduous forest trails instantly popped into my head.

Lycoming County lies in a valley, and if you look out a south facing window in any building the mountains loom a lovely view. I learned to navigate different parts of Williamsport by running through them with the Cross Country team. I’ve run up Grampian Hills, around the Susquehanna Riverwalk, and in circles around several of the high school tracks nearby the college including Montoursville. I’ve even done hill workouts in the cemetery, though respectfully away from the graves themselves. But there is nothing I prefer more in Williamsport than trampling through the leaf covered trails of Bald Eagle Mountain (a piece of the Allegheny Mountain range) in the middle of Autumn.

It is easy to get stressed out by the pressures of college life, and often more difficult to escape them when one lives on campus. But having the chance to hit those trails, which are so conveniently placed on the opposite side of the river from the college, makes me feel like I am a world away from Lycoming and its many challenges.

Some people might consider walking the trails enough to calm their nerves and raise their spirits, but I need more than a leisurely stroll to pull my mind away from all that goes on in the human world. Running the trails I have to watch constantly for rocks and loose earth beneath red and yellow leaves. Three miles is a long way to crawl if I were to fall and snap my ankle; I’ve learned from experience that 1 ½ miles is quite a long way for someone to carry you. Always go with a buddy! You also have to lift your eyes from scanning the ground long enough to look out for unfriendly wildlife, such as bears and snakes. I’ve never actually seen any but the fact that my friends have is enough to keep me alert. In these ways, I am able to keep myself totally distracted from whatever trials of the day were plaguing me.

Whenever I find a patch of earth that seems trustworthy enough I take a chance to look out into the trees as far as I can see. It's mesmerizing, because unlike on a track, the scenery is always changing, and even the obstacles change. There could be a tree down, or a pool of mud to avoid, just to make the run exciting. If you are going to push your body for 6 miles, might as well keep your mind guessing.

When you are up that high you can’t hear cars, the greatest cause of white noise. I grew up on a street that turns off of one of the busiest roads on Long Island. There I have never known a day where I couldn’t hear cars and trucks barreling along and drowning out whatever the birds and the bugs have to say. I learned how to fall asleep to this dirty noise, so when I am running to the tune of blue jays, branches cracking, and bushes ruffling I feel awake and on my toes. I wish I could test whether I run faster on these trails or with the threat of competitors in a race, but I know for sure that I am never quite as disappointed to hit the finish as when I see my coach’s car in view at the end of a dirt path. Next year I will be at a loss when it's back to pavement paths along the coast.