I’ve never been much for tracking my distance when running. I generally run until I have to shower and ready myself for work or until my legs say, “Screw off” and surrender from exhaustion. But while training for a half marathon this past summer, I detoured from my usual route around Logan Boulevard and ventured to the track encircling Palmer Square.
Equaling a little over one mile twice around, the track is a well-shaded shelter for occasionally-out-of-their-minds summer runners, and it gets legs off the hard concrete and onto a dirt path, helping dodge dreaded shin splints. The path has never been too crowded with other runners during my morning visits, and the car traffic around the square is light, so you don’t have to huff heavy loads of exhaust. Drinking fountains, concrete animal sculptures, killer surrounding houses, and couples in their early 30s walking their dogs are among the other attractions.
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