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What motivates someone to spend hours each week huffing, puffing and sweating up and down hills, risking shin splints and sore feet, avoiding nips from aggressive canines, dodging automobiles—all to earn a tee-shirt that proclaims "I ran the Fodderstack”?
For the non-runner, the reasons are unfathomable. It’s as if the human race was divided into subspecies, those who run and those who don’t.
Non-runners may not understand why runners run but the reasons must be good because each spring, as the start of Rappahannock’s 10 kilometer road race draws closer, Fodderstack hopefuls pop up like daffodills along country lanes.
The race over the old stagecoach route from Flint Hill to Washington means something special to the regulars who have gone the distance since the innaugural running in 1979. For 11-year-old Matthew Owings, one of the youngest competitors, “it’s just real fun.” To Emily Vawter, whose 69 years puts her at the other end of the spectrum, it’s a wonderful way to exercise. It’s the friendliest of rivalries for Merrill Strange and for Frank Reynolds, the Fodderstack was the key to his family’s move from southwest Virginia to the town of Washington.
“I have to keep running
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