There is nothing pleasant or pleasing about this post. This post is about running with cicadas, or maybe more appropriately running on cicadas.
We are currently living through a swarm of the 17-year cicada. There are literally millions of them in our tiny, wooded village outside Cincinnati. They come out of the ground, climb up trees, shed their grub like skin and start buzzing around. For two or three weeks they fly around trying to find a mate that lays eggs in the branches of trees, and then they all die. The larvae drop from the branches, burrow into the ground and lay there for another 17 years. Meanwhile the millions of dead cicadas stink up the place.
Not much of a life if you ask me - 17 years living underground and then two weeks to get lucky before you die.
Now the thing about cicadas are that hey are harmless. They don’t bite, they don’t sting, they just annoy. They are not very good flyers and are constantly flying into things including people. I imagine living underground for 17 years will do that to you.
Since they don’t fly well, they are often getting together on the ground. Many times they get together in the street. In the morning when it is dark, and you are out for a run, well – you get the picture - crunch, crunch, crunch.
The run I had when the swarm was at its height was the grossest run I ever had. I would take running in the rain over trying to avoid the little buggers on the road and the disgusting sound when there were too many to miss – crunch, crunch, crunch.
Even though I hated it, I have only one wish. That is to still be running 17 years from now when they come back.
We are currently living through a swarm of the 17-year cicada. There are literally millions of them in our tiny, wooded village outside Cincinnati. They come out of the ground, climb up trees, shed their grub like skin and start buzzing around. For two or three weeks they fly around trying to find a mate that lays eggs in the branches of trees, and then they all die. The larvae drop from the branches, burrow into the ground and lay there for another 17 years. Meanwhile the millions of dead cicadas stink up the place.
Not much of a life if you ask me - 17 years living underground and then two weeks to get lucky before you die.
Now the thing about cicadas are that hey are harmless. They don’t bite, they don’t sting, they just annoy. They are not very good flyers and are constantly flying into things including people. I imagine living underground for 17 years will do that to you.
Since they don’t fly well, they are often getting together on the ground. Many times they get together in the street. In the morning when it is dark, and you are out for a run, well – you get the picture - crunch, crunch, crunch.
The run I had when the swarm was at its height was the grossest run I ever had. I would take running in the rain over trying to avoid the little buggers on the road and the disgusting sound when there were too many to miss – crunch, crunch, crunch.
Even though I hated it, I have only one wish. That is to still be running 17 years from now when they come back.
