This is the season of my running, which is defined as running without any agenda. There are no race goals in my future and no training schedules keep. It doesn't matter how fast or slow I run or how many miles I go. I am just running. This is my season where I simply enjoy the love of running, the season where I just lose myself within my runs. I want my season to be filled with opportunities of listening to the trails and allowing them to speak to me. Nothing mystical or spiritual, but simply soaking in the sites and sounds of nature. For example, the other day as I was running through a field leading up to the trailhead I noticed I was literally running side by side with a butterfly, the moment was surreal. The scents of the trails also have an alluring and soothing affect to them, but many times before they have gone nearly undetected, lost within a training regimen. Now during my season of running I have the opportunity to inhale the scents of lilac and honeysuckle and enjoy their soothing affects. Suddenly the trails have a noticeable sound of their own providing another world ready to engulf my own. The rustling of critters and chirping of birds are inviting in their own rite, but it is the buzzing of various insects and the songs of cicadas that transport me to the jungle of my mind. As I whisk past the lush greenery of a Kentucky summer I have the opportunity to high five low lying branches, the leafy hands of my greatest fans. Every rock and root along the pathway are no longer the nemesis to my runs, but rather have become more like familiar friends. If ever there was a moment when I discover my place and connection to our wonderful planet it is definitively while I am running the trails. This is the season of my running.
Tuesday, June 3, 2014
Lately I have been nursing an injury worried about my amateur running career to the point of obsession. Scott Jurek I am not so I had to rekindle, or discover, my run. I have ditched any form of a running regimen or training plan and started going out to just simply run, nothing more. No longer do I track my time or pace and I now run without regard to the miles I am running. Basically I just go out and run. In my process of rekindling I have rediscovered my adventure. Now whenever I embark running on the trails I am engulfed into the experience and not into some training endeavor. I have rediscovered the simple joys of life like inhaling the scents of honeysuckle or fresh pine needles as I glide along through the forest. Simply backing off from a running regimen has allowed me to rekindle the joy of pausing to gaze at mountaintop views while vultures gracefully glide just overhead. My moments on the trails have become an undisturbed stillness that can never be extinguished, my secret place in the world where I can be me without fear of judgement or repercussions. Running the trails has ultimately been discovering my place in the world, in the universe, that I and nature are interwoven and connected in deeply meaningful ways.