forty paces of solitude

There's a very short stretch of dirt between the sidewalk and the high school baseball field that I've recently been using as my own secret trail running route. It's mostly filled with weeds. There's no obvious reason to take this route as it directly parallels the sidewalk. And it only lasts a moment before one must return to the sidewalk. But I take it. I like it. It's far, far from a nature path. It's right along a busy residential street. And it's short. But it's there. It's earth. It feels good under the feet. It rained recently so the ground has been a bit muddy along this stretch. I saw someone's footprints and I followed them. He matched me stride for stride. My right hitting just to the side of his left and vise-versa. Then I recognized the tread pattern. I was tracking myself. So many footprints that we follow along the way, some of them our own.