history Running

The familiar can be so unfamiliar

September 30, 2015

As I have written about before, I have a few go to run routes. I know them quite well. I know the potholes, the inclines, the curves, distances between landmarks, where to see deer, which route will have a great sunrise or sunset or lots of midday shade, which homes have dogs that bark and those that chase and bark and nip at heels, which roads have streetlights, and which get plowed first in winter. I know them.

Yet, sometimes I find myself amazed at how little I know about parts of these routes.

I run around to the other side of the Lunenburg harbour once a week as a bare minimum. It is a route that I adore for an early morning quick runabout and I love it as a platform to launch my Sunday long run as it tails off outside of town and rises over a couple beauty hills before settling along yet another winding coastal road. So it is part of my comfortable short runs as well as the introductory few kilometres of my longer outings.

Whether that particular route is part of my quickie or longie(?), I run by this monument each and every single time:


And I never once knew what it was all about.

Unfamiliarity in the familiar.

So I stopped in front of it the other day, snapped two photos, and ran home to search it up. As it turns out, it is yet another fascinating piece of this ultra-historic town’s historic puzzle. It was home to between 800 and 2000 displaced Norwegian fishermen and whalers during the second World War. Luckily, this is one of the “unknowns” along my run routes that can easily become “known” with a quick internet search.

I guess the ungoogleable remaining unknown monuments or architectural features or geographic markings along my routes will mostly have to remain as strangely familiar on the surface, but foreign to me in all other aspects.

The familiar can be so unfamiliar

Leave a Reply