Bridges History and Running

Have you traveled to an old city? Old being a relative term I know. Old enough to make you wonder about history, about the people that walked the same path before you, about their survival, and the things they left behind?


I've been to Charleston, South Carolina five times or so and every time the same feeling overwhelms me. This visit I ran the Cooper Bridge, which was renamed the Ravenel Bridge when they replaced the old bridge with the new one a few years back. Locals still refer to it as the Cooper Bridge.

I started in the dark and ran from historic downtown out to the bay where the railroad comes in to gather the goods from the cargo ships and whisk it away and continued on down East Bay to the bridge. The bridge has a walking/cycling path that runs the full expanse and beyond, two and one half miles across the water.

As I began my ascent where the path curves onto the bridge you can see it in front and above you, the middle of the bridge calling out to you, amazingly it looks only a stone’s throw away. And so I began. Soon my legs are engaged in a battle with an incline that is not too pleasant. But I continue on, unable to look up because when I do I am discouraged by the steep path I see before me, and so, head down, I plug away running up that path. When I do look up I see a group of quickly moving lights coming toward me, there are 5 or 6 of them shining through the dark morning and I wonder if this is some type of golf cart zooming downhill but when they get to me I see it is a group of cyclists either out for a morning ride or commuting into town for work. They are going at quite a speed, but given that they are on the downhill to my uphill I can understand why they take advantage of the ease of the ride.

I continue on thinking "soon I will be at the top", this soon becomes my mantra. Slowly the sky turns from black to a dull gray just as I reach the top. Here I rest looking out from high upon this bridge across the water at the lights of Charleston on one side and Mt. Pleasant on the other. It's a charming site even as the industrial ships begin moving into the harbor. It occurs to me that long ago when the ships would come in, they most likely could not see it from this vantage point but would be able to see the gas lights burning in the city and feel, without stepping from the ship, the rum going down their throats to warm their bellies. Indeed Charleston had a bar for every three buildings in the city. As well as more churches than any town of its size at the time. An interesting dichotomy.

And then it's time to take on the downhill toward the other side and as promised it was a freeing experience. Legs now free of the uphill engagement it takes some control to keep them from going too fast beneath me and it is at this point that my knees begin to feel shaky. Downhill is not good on the knees, and this downhill is especially long and steep. But it does feel good as the pace increases and I make it to the other side and turn around to go...yes....uphill. And this side is a much longer uphill although not as steep. I take out my music, choose some inspirational songs, turn it up and launch into the run back to my abode.

I'm not sure if it was the music that made the difference or the fact that as the sun began to peak up over the horizon the clouds opposite of it started their show of turning from grey to pink to orange and because their color was so bright it reflected in the water below. Breathtaking doesn't describe the beauty but there is no other word to use. With the music in my ears and the sky and water painting a picture before me the uphill climb was over quickly and I stood once again looking over the water and thinking of the difference light makes as it reflects on an old city.

Finishing my run, the downhill is euphoric and I soon found that place where your emotions are light, the world is yours, where you feel that anything within reach is yours and there I stayed, singing, laughing, and viewing the world from the eyes of an enlighten soul. Looking out over a city that was once plagued with pirates, flooded from a hurricane, and burned to the ground. Seeing what history built and how it continues on then it occurred to me. In another 100 years someone will look at this bridge and marvel at what was done so many years ago, they will marvel that it held up for so long and that so many crossed over it without plunging in the water below. And they will most likely tell of the ghosts that wander across in the early day's darkness mourning the loss of their lives or those they loved.