Stone Mountain Enclave Rules

From the online Merriam Webster Dictionary –

enclave: a distinct territorial, cultural, or social unit enclosed within or as if within foreign territory

Decades ago, when I was relatively young, I belonged to a group of runners that met each Saturday and Sunday morning at Stone Mountain Park. And with that opening statement I feel that I have already begun to deceive you. The word “group” implies there might have been some organization involved. This is not true. We had a saying – “the only rule is there AIN’T no rules!”

And the first statement is also incorrect because it is stated in the past tense as if the group no longer exists. The group still exists, but it is a mere shadow of its former self. We once had at least 10 showing up each morning and sometimes as many as 20 or more. Alas, the kids grow up and the parents grow old. We now average 2 or 3 each morning, and occasionally it is just me.

The title of this post is also misleading. There never was a name for this group of runners. Many names were proposed over the years, some of them discussed seriously, but as good-humored anarchists we eventually shouted all of them down, but only after ridiculing the proposer, his/her spouse/partner/significant other, kids (if any), domicile, pets, and manner of transportation.

The only thing we had in common was that we chose to collect at the same place and time to run each weekend. Most had a ball sport somewhere in their background; I may have been the only one who did not play with balls in high school and college, but we had all come around to distance running as our chosen avocation as young (mentally and emotionally immature) adults.

We had representatives from both genders and multiple ethnic groups. Each of us had been invited by a member or referred to the group by a neighbor or friend, or the friend of a friend who knew of this group who ran at Stone Mountain Park. We welcomed all who came, and excluded no-one, but how else would you find us at 0730 on a weekend morning at an obscure point on the planet if not given directions? Anyone who drove up at the right time and looked remotely capable of running got an invitation to join us.

Finding a compatible group of runners to train with is not as simple as it might seem unless you are exceedingly tolerant. Most running groups are “too” something – too fast, too slow, too profane, too sacrilegious, too religious, too political, too polite, too passive, too competitive and so on. So we’ve had a number of folks join us for a period of time and then just disappear. I hope they didn’t find us “too” something, but instead just lost the desire to experience masochism via long runs.

Even though we weren’t an organized group per se, and we didn’t have a name, there were still rules. They were unspoken rules that were closely observed and enforced through profane verbal reprimands. So having said all of that as preamble, I find I’ve reached the bottom of my page and have thereby fulfilled my weekly quota of words. Next week – the rules, provided I can remember a few of them. I’ve written all of this on faith that I will remember some of the rules and they will be mildly entertaining.