The Bike Path in the Middle of Nowhere

There is a bike path that runs underneath the turnpike, out in farm country. When you notice it from the highway, it seems like the trail is in the middle of nowhere. 

It’s always felt a bit mysterious to me. Probably because I’ve never wanted to look up how far people have to run or ride to reach the section by the turnpike. I’ve liked the wondering. And the few minutes of mystery the trail brings to a longer drive.

Every time I’ve driven over the trail in daylight, I’ve looked for people. I’ve scanned in both directions, wondering if I’ll see anyone running or biking. There’s a moment of suspense for me when the trail comes into view. Sometimes I do see people. But most often, I see an empty trail and I wonder where it leads.

Of course, the trail isn’t in the middle of nowhere. There is actually a town, less than a mile off the turnpike that the trail runs straight through. But you’d never know from the highway. From the highway, all you see farmland. And a paved bike path.

This past weekend I got the chance to run on my mysterious bike path in the middle of nowhere. We spent the weekend in the small town just off the highway that I’ve never known was right there. And I got to do a thing I’ve always wondered about; run on the trail that goes under the turnpike.

The girl at the pizza place had told me that I’d only see like two people while I was out there. She was right, until I got back into town at the end of my run and saw a few more. But on the part of the trail I’ve always seen from the highway, it was just me.

As I approached the highway bridge, I wondered if anyone driving above had noticed me. For a few minutes I assumed they had, but then I was no longer sure. What if no one noticed me? Crossing under the turnpike, with the world speeding by above me, I felt very alone.

Not unsafe alone. Just alone. I’d never wondered until I was seeing the intersection from this new perspective if anyone else played the same game I did. I’d never thought beyond the fact that I played the game. But under the bridge, it hit me that maybe no one else played spot the person on the path in the middle of nowhere. That maybe no one noticed me at all.

I think all of us know that feeling. The one when you are surrounded by other people, but you feel entirely alone. That feeling when the tiny voice inside your head feels just brave enough to wonder if anyone notices that you’re there.

On my run this weekend, I was only lonely for that one mile. Once I was far enough away from the turnpike, I could breathe deeper again. I’ve lived with that loneliness before though, and it can be crushingly heavy. When it lifted for me on my run, I spent the rest of my miles wondering how many people are feeling the weight of loneliness right now. I’d wager a lot that it’s a lot of people.

This weekend I was briefly reminded of what it feels like to feel lonely. The kind when you feel impossibly isolated even though you are surrounded by a busy world. The kind of loneliness when you wonder if anyone notices you at all.

We can’t possibly be there for everyone all the time. But we can do our best to notice other people.