Routes of access
MY FAVORITE running route in Ojai, California, starts at my front door. In the springtime, when the still, foggy air of winter gives way to a hotter, drier, citrus-kissed ether, I take my course. There is no sidewalk, so I walk to the shoulder, asphalt crumbling underfoot, and set my watch, giving the GPS time to calibrate. Then I set off running west, toward the Ventura River.
On the road, big trucks blaze past, cyclists weave around cars parked in the shoulder, and couples walk their dogs or push strollers. There are plenty of uneven and rocky patches, but I’ve never rolled an ankle, perhaps in part because I avoid stretching before a run: Keeping my muscles rigid makes for a springy
