Where I Run: A Celebratory Pig Farm Run

On Friday I took my last run of the year, needing 10 miles to reach 100 for the month and 1200 for the year. Usually in the winter I run to the west to have the wind in my face at the start and thus be able to finish with the wind at my back.

On Friday, however, the ever-present wind was absent so I could do the run that I really wanted to do—to the east—the Pig Farm 10 miler.

This run has been integral to my running life for 30 years. I wanted to “dance with the one that brung ya,” so to speak, and pay homage to a great route that has sustained me thru thick and thin and hundreds of runs.

Of course, the obligatory disclaimer is that I'd much rather be running trails.  But getting there adds time and complexity, while the Pig Farm route is right out my door.

Photos of the highlights of the run, complete with links to previous posts:

Of course, the local place names.

The beautiful stone wall, that puts my dry stone wall efforts to shame.

The “big rock” where a dead Rebel was buried on the retreat from Gettysburg in 1863.

The unnamed and unsigned church--so I don't know the denomination-- where the men line up to enter thru one of the front doors and the women do the same at the other front door.  There are no horses and buggies here but ALL the cars are black and unadorned.  I get water here halfway thru the run at an outside frost-free spigot.

No photo, but the field where water runs uphill, I swear.

The run has been good to me and I am thankful to celebrate it!