One of Those Rebirth Runs

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Early this morning I tiptoed out the door while the rest of the family and a houseguest peacefully dozed upstairs. It was another rough one, with the headache making it both impossible to sleep and difficult to concentrate while awake.

Already it was 54 degrees and cloudless as I found the trailhead near my neighborhood and headed into what counts for wilderness here. The full moon was ahead of me on the horizon; behind me I sensed the rising sun. At this hour, the night creatures would be settled down and the other animals preparing for the hunt. There were no other humans for miles, but I made sure to amuse the hidden deer and the coyote, the rattlesnakes and the water rats by tripping no less than three times, falling hard on the final face plant just beyond dense foliage.

My heart rate and heavy legs reminded me I don’t do this as often as I should. My mind continually soaked up the solitude, signaling it could stand to be unburdened a little more frequently. Following a braid of single tracks on the return, the green glistened and the nearby woodland stream hummed and, though still far from fluent, I learned a little more of the language of the trails.

I passed another female runner, two couples walking their dogs and a lone mountain biker clearly violating the park’s 8 a.m. official opening. I returned home dirty and battered, but also clear-headed and committed to become a better version of myself. Which, when you think of it, is much like everyone else who enjoyed their own version of an Easter sunrise service.

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