golfless course

I've fallen in love with a new running route. I have to use a key to get through the back gate of our neighborhood, run across my old elementary school on the main sidewalk through a duck crosswalk by the golf course. Then, I have options. It's lovely.

I love golf courses not golf. When I was in St. Andrews in Scotland, I gawked with longing at the golf course like a fourteen year-old boy gazing at the head cheerleader. This guy must of recognized the look of longing on my face and said, "Do you like to play golf?"
I answered, "No. I have this incredible urge to run!"
He looked a bit baffled but amused.

Golf courses feel me with the urge a) to run and b) to play capture the flag. The best games of capture the flag happen at dusk on a good golf course. And, now I'll have the duck crossing lodged next to the memory of my brother's keebler elves golf club bag, which was embarrassing for him and hilarious for everybody else. In Vancouver, my favorite trail, Lilly Valley, ran parallel to part of UBC's golf course. Perhaps, if I learned how to golf, I might enjoy the sport they're designed for.