Rediscovering the trails

I do still struggle with getting out the door for a run. I suppose it will always be that way. But that said, it's probably the most beautiful time of the year to run here. The sun has come out and dried the trails that I've had to stay clear of the past months because of the mud and mire. Yet, the ground is still moist, meaning I'm not kicking up clouds of dust. And this helps. I've given myself permission to run where ever I wanted, not worrying about getting in enough or too many hills in preparation for Hurricane Point. Now I wake up and ask myself, "where would I like to run?" Lately the answer has been on the trails and fireroads that lead through the forest where I live. I realize I love the quiet (these are runs I don't take the IPod), I love the shade of the trees, and looking to the side and seeing nothing but the forest, not houses or cars, or the treadmill next to me. It's peaceful, yet at the same time it is far from boring. Anybody who's tripped over a tree root and taken a tumble, leaving parts of their skin on the trail can testify to the hazards of becoming too complacent on the trail (I have come to the conclusion I am the least graceful athlete in the world, see not only my tumbles on the trails, but my headfirst slide down my driveway marathon morning). And I find I actually enjoy going up hills on a trail more than I do a road. On a trail it's more of a scramble, finding the good footing, thinking one step ahead so you don't slip and stumble (it's kind of like driving the lane in basketball, or, my favorite fantasy, being Reggie Bush weaving past defenders). On the road, sometimes it's just grinding it out. So lately I've just opted for the trails and enjoyed it.

I continue to be unfocused in my running, with no real goal, just a determination to use running as a tool to focus on, establish and reach other goals in my life. Funny how it works that way, although I will say, I'm going through this daily Bible reading book and my bookmark is a postcard for the San Francisco Marathon. So every day, I see the picture of the back of a runner (his knees wrapped in bandages, checking his watch) heading forward into the fog. Interesting image and probably very symbolic.

I received an e-mail from a favorite colleague of mine yesterday. I guess he had read my blog about "Memories." I think the e-mail summed up what I was stumbling through trying to say so much better than I put it:

Our greatest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our greatest fear is that we are powerful beyond belief - Nelson Mandela