The first run of May and I turned it into an impromptu adventure.
The wind was blowing across the long, true stretch of path and I was plodding along at a respectable clip chopping through the crisp air and attempting to tune out the reality of the worldly frustrations that populating my days. Nothing but work and politics gushing through my mind, and not even some thrashing running tunes could edge out the bleed of societal angst. I try not to take this stuff personally, but I do. So I run.
I had trekked about four klicks from home and was contemplating the pros and cons of either turning around and going back or making a big loop out of it. Pretty soon it wasn’t going to matter either way. My anticipated casual five klicks has already turned into a speed (at least) ten.
I slowed a bit, and down into ne’er before noticed scrub path I lurched a few tentative steps before launching headlong into a sod-it-all-whatever trail run.
Down along a rough grassy footpath I went. Down into the wilderness hidden in the shadow of a blossoming suburb. Down into the trees. Down to the edge of the nearby stream, where I honestly stood, stopping the increment of my watch, while I contemplated, calculated, weighed and wondered if I should leap onto the wobbly rocks and bits of wood that had been constructed by past explorers as a kind of makeshift bridge. I would have certainly got my feet a bit wet, but the risk of actually falling in was far less than certain. My biggest concern was not the water, it was rather of turning my ten klick run into a twenty klick wandering adventure.
I consulted Google maps on my phone, noted that through the trees and up the hill was civilization, but not an ideal location to emerge for a speedy return to home, and instead back-tracked up the hill and back home.
Politics (mostly) forgotten. Sunshine achieved.