I was talking to my good friend Selby the other day and he asked if I had continued to blog. I told him that ideas kept sloshing in my head but that nothing had made it to the computer. He made a comment that it seemed as though running and urban planning could find a good relationship and that this blog seemed a good place for it.
I thought about that and realized that he is certainly right. Without realizing it, one of the first ways I generally explore a city is by running. There are things you can see on foot that you simply do not see in a car. There is also a feeling you get on foot that doesn't exist in a car. Sometimes that feeling is good and sometimes it isn't, but either way you learn something.
As I think back on the trips I have taken, running is almost always an activity I do when I travel, and it has given me mundane, yet interesting experiences. This past summer I ran while in Arizona and experienced many different things. For one, the first day I ran, I discovered that the subdivision we were staying in had several gated communities spread throughout the area. Eventually, no matter which road I chose, I eventually hit a dead end in the form of a coded gate. What I didn't realize at the time is that this experience fits perfectly with a planning term we learned about where we have moved beyond segregation by structure, but we have physically begun to separate ourselves from people we don't wish to interact with. You can bet that this subdivision in Scottsdale is filled with affluent people who don't want the riff raff of common folk coming to their neighborhood.
The second day I ran in Scottsdale, I ran through what felt like pure desert. I was on what was labeled 93rd Street, but there was no pavement, no markers on the road, and nothing around me but cactus and mountains. In areas where the road dipped, I could no longer see the Valley of the Sun and any sign of civilization. It was somewhat liberating and somewhat scary. What is so interesting is that this is what we describe while speaking about the exurbs- the places in our country where we seek solitude. However, the fact that 93rd Street has fire hydrants placed in strategic locations informs me that the area is just waiting for the housing market to recover before exploding into a new city.
Thinking back, running has given me many experiences that I might not have without foot exploration. I can recall running in Orlando, Florida and experiencing the terror of crossing eight lane boulevards on foot or running along streets with no sidewalks surrounded by office parks or hotel complexes. The number of curb cuts with drivers who have no respect for people on foot can give a very quick perspective as to how difficult it is to live without a car. While that may seem like a choice to many of us, for some, access to a vehicle is a luxury. Cities like Orlando are not equipped to handle people who don't have access to luxuries.
I remember running in rural North Carolina and Georgia while on service trips. The south has a very different way of life and as a pasty white kid running I received many funny looks from passerby, I almost always received a wave as well and plenty of room to run without fear of collision. It is rare in Ann Arbor that I'll receive eye contact, let along space and a wave.
Running in a new place is always fun because you can discover a lot about a city or a culture in just a few short miles. A 30 minute run can tell you a lot about where you are and the people who are around you. It can inform you about the weather, the culture, and the difficulties that we face in many cities around the country. Running has a great relationship with planning indeed.
