The first half of my run here was overwhelming; I was able to witness the extremely busy streets near the University forest apartments first-hand, dodging cars and making my way across the Huguenot bridge. As I was running through the parking lots and along the grassy borders of the road I was so focused on my destination across the street or across the bridge that I barely even recall what happened. I remember a blur of cars and pavement, of trying to run faster so as to not give an impression of being a slacker, of turning my ipod up so I could forget that I was exercising and get past the dreaded first mile that it takes for my body to kick into gear. It was because I was so focused on ridding my mind of the overwhelming busyness of the streets around me that I felt the need to get my mind away from the present moment.
But, once I was able to get off the main road and hit the river, the solitude was instantly calming. My body relaxed after having been tense from the stresses of crossing the road or jumping out of the way of a speeding car. Running along the river, my feet were able to get into a rhythm as I padded down the road for another mile without the worries of stopping to cross the busy street or to find the right sidewalk to run on. Instead of needing to get away from the present moment of exercise, I was finally able to turn off my ipod and enjoy the low rumbling of the river to my left and take pleasure in merely feeling my body work. It seemed as though being out of the noise of the world behind me and running by the river brought me back to my basic instinct, ridding me of my need for distraction from the present moment.
When I finally made it to the spot a good three miles into the run, I appreciated how I could barely catch my breath and let myself feel the fresh air going in and out of my lungs. The shimmering of the water from the rapids and the smooth, sweet wind combined to create a harmony that could not be replicated elsewhere, and I am truly appreciating the exact moment I am in. It could be the runner’s high, but I believe it is being back in nature by the river that makes me feel so calm and in sync with the world around me.
I regret not having repeated this run by myself. Celeste and I had a heck of a good time running it together after I posted this, but being alone is a different type of feeling. I guess I am a loner at heart, but I think that everyone should go on a nature run on their own without an ipod. Just you and the trail. I went on a couple of run/hikes on my own in the state park near my house over the summer and found myself appreciating things a lot more when you are forced to pay attention to THEM instead of an ipod or a conversation. At one point, I was so happy to be out there alone and alive that I hugged a tree. My next plan is to go camping for a few days alone with nothing to entertain me but a fire and a journal, for I think this would be truly refreshing. My family is too afraid for me though. It’s a shame that solo camping in the woods is more dangerous for women then men. Hmph.