Jet lagged and exhausted from the red-eye, a nap was just the thing.
I'd have slept through the night had my cross-country stud middle-schooler not had a meet. And good thing, too, or I might have slept through without a run.
I was glad to have my best running buddy back with me.
But the humidity, and the same old course, and the same old tight schedule that kept me on that same old course... not so much.
Pouty, I started up the road.
Surprisingly, and refreshingly, my legs felt springy. Heels, not a problem. I guess the key is going without sleep. Not exactly workable, but interesting to note.
Even with fresh legs, after 8 days of running in San Francisco and Napa, I was dreading the old routine.
Up into the woods on the familiar trail, and then, there it was...
The top half of two trees were now on the ground, blocking the trail. My trail.
It was like seeing an old friend wounded. The same questions I'd be asking in that case I was asking out loud to no one: When did this happen? How did this happen?
Stunned, I made my way past, and up the trail.
As I moved on, I realized that for months, maybe years, I'd been running past previous falls, cut to open the path, without noticing them.
It was a good reminder not to take the familiar and the comfortable and our daily companions for granted. And not to bemoan their familiarity. Embrace it as a sign that they work for us. They've worked their way into our lives for a reason.
Don't be satisfied with familiar and comfortable alone. But accept them as a part of what helps get you from A to B in your life, while everything else is erupting around you.
Numbers: 1.4 miles on my exceedingly familiar and comfortable trail route.
PS = phone/mac sync issues have my vaca photos in limbo. Apologies.