Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Today was one of those hurry-up-and-get-things-done days so I’d have time to squeeze in a mountain run prior to my writing critique meeting this evening. Checking things off my list right and left with lightening speed this morning, I then headed out to the places I needed this afternoon.

Just as I got back to my office, my oldest daughter, who’s in town visiting, texted me, wanting to know if I’d eaten lunch yet. I hadn’t, looked at my watch and did a quick calculation.

There might be time.

I contacted her and we arranged that if I went to lunch with her instead of going for my mountain run then, she’d cover for me in the afternoon so I could break away for the hour I’d need to get in my run.

We had a wonderful lunch, just the two of us, and enjoyed catching up with one another. After, we picked up her younger brother and went home. Changing into my running gear, I then grabbed my six-inch blade I carry for protection and headed out.

The head of the mountain trail is a mere half mile from our front door, so in quick order, I found myself surrounded by nature, traversing mountain streams overflowing with water, dodging fallen trees, squishing my way through mud and having the time of my life.

Usually, I don my headphones and run in time to the tunes on my IPod shuffle. But today, I let Mother Nature play her symphony for me to keep pace with. There was the sound of water cascading down great heights. Streams, full of water, flowing over rocks. The sound of my own footsteps as I carefully placed each step, avoiding obstacles. Bullfrogs croaking out their melodies. Birds chirping. A random rattlesnake, apparently not aware it should be hibernating, shaking its rattle as I ran by.

Running my mountain trail, I felt like I was in the most perfect place. And had it not been approaching dark, I would have stopped at the peak of the mountain to sit and appreciate the breathtaking 360-degree panoramic view. But I knew better than to tempt fate by being stuck, alone, on the mountain as the night animals began to come out. Have found myself in that unfortunate situation a number of times, each one not the least bit pleasant…or safe. So, reaching the summit, I craned my head from side-to-side like an over enthused owl, taking in as much of the view as I could while still running and being mindful of where I was placing my footfalls.

About a half mile further along, there’s a saddleback section of the trail. Our city lies on one side, the neighboring town on the other. This expanse stretches about a half mile in length. While running it this afternoon, with the sun rapidly setting off to my right, the sky the most perfect blue, visions of Julie Andrews in The Sound Of Music came to mind, as she danced her way across that lush green hillside in the movie.

My feet felt like they had wings, me invigorated from the gorgeous nature surrounding me, and I flew down the mountain, keeping a top running pace. By the time my feet reconnected with the paved road that leads back to our house, I felt like I’d spent an entire day at some amazing spa. (Have never been to one, but from how they depict them in the movies, I can imagine how refreshing they must be.)