Recently I drove to the ski area to run on a trail that winds its way to the top of the mountain. It has some steep sections, gaining about 2400 feet of elevation in 3.8 miles. "I'll run for 10 minutes and then walk if it's too hard," I bargained with myself, setting off into the woods. Nearly half an hour later I was still running, gaining ground steadily through green forest and open flowery meadows. Finally I ran into snow and turned around and ran back down the mountain.
After decades of running, pounding the pavement doesn't appeal to me. I no longer care about speed work or running races. But I can't pass by a trail winding its way into the forest without thinking, I wonder what it would be like to run there?
|The view from the trail I ran on (except this picture was taken in the fall)|