The End Of The Stories

I had been floundering for a short while in a funk of unknown origin and earlier this week (after skipping runs for four or five days) woke up determined to head to the trails on base.

As it had been for much of the past few weeks, the weather was unsettled.

Temperatures were unusually mild for mid-January even in the South, and the forecast promised rain and possibly thunderstorms, and I really wanted to get a run in before the weather fell apart.

There is a common (only partially-joking) saying in adventure racing - start slow and taper off.

 As my still funked-up mood prevailed I headed onto the trails and my body was slow to respond.

Stubbornly reluctant to get into a running groove.

As I continued to heavily trudge along the trails, and as my heart-rate continued to fly all over the map and refused to even out, I at some point decided that I would not look at my watch and would not push too hard.

I was running and I was on trail, and I figured that on a weatherly uneven day and temperamentally uneven day I would accept that as being good enough................

I was less than 3 miles into what was supposed to have been a seven mile run, and I still felt heavy, out of breath and out of sorts.

I stopped running-trudging for a few minutes and breathlessly looked around me.

I sucked on the tube of my water bladder, tried to slow my heart rate down and for the first time that day really looked around me.

The tree tops were swaying in the strong wind, and I could hear many of them creaking.

There are many downed trees in the woods that make up the extensive trail system at the base, and looking closely at one of them I was again surprised at just how shallow their root systems are.

I have been on these trails during all weather and in all seasons.

I have seen them filled with rain, with ice and with snow.

I have seen these trails when everything was green and lush and full of life.

When I was watchful for poison ivy and poison oak and snakes and tics.

When the mosquitoes were a pain and I was regretful that I forgot to spray down with both sunscreen and bug spray.

On this day there was only brown.

Against a seemingly endless grey sky, the woods looked bleak.

Bare trees standing in watchful and silent acknowledgement of my lone presence in their woods.

And a carpet of brown fallen leaves covering the ground in all directions................

I began running-trudging again and already knew that this run was not going to last for seven miles.

The single track trail I was on cuts across a wide grassy power line trail about 10 minutes into the run, and then cuts across a jeep trail around the 3 mile mark.

As I slowly continued I decided that I would veer off the trail at the jeep trail and pick up single track again at the far end of the jeep trail, effectively cutting about two miles from my run.

Mossy bright green growing out and up through a bed of fallen leaves..............

I stopped again at the jeep trail, again drank water and caught my breath, again realized that I had had better runs.

Pleased to be outside though, I wandered around this intersection while listening to the wind sometimes whistle and sometimes roar through the trees.

Warily I looked up into the sky and (although it is often difficult to tell while in the woods) the weather did not seem to be closing in..............

A quiet and unmaintained pine needle filled open trail located close to single track and jeep trail.

I looked down this trail and resolved to check it out again one day soon, since I had not traveled it since arriving back in Tennessee.

From previous trips I knew that it was a horseshoe shaped trail that eventually circled back onto the jeep trail...........

And one more pine needle filled quiet trail in this same area.

Another trail that I have not been down in a long while............

Feeling guilty for cutting miles off my run I never-the-less knew that it was the right choice.

The weather was increasingly unsettled and I wanted to get off the trails before the rain hit, but in truth some runs just go well and some are tough and that day was just tough.

As I headed slowly down the jeep road, working my way towards a trail entrance at the far end I snapped this picture deep into one of many pine tree sections of woods.............

I stopped one more time when I got to this place.

An increasingly grey sky and a large unkempt field adjacent to yet one more mowed power line trail.

One day a few years ago I was running single track, popped out of the trail and stood looking at this area stunned at what I was seeing.

The usually green and brown field filled with young pine trees, some hard woods and endless types of tall weeds had surprisingly turned into a world of yellow.

It was late Summer I think - maybe sometime in the Fall - an endless sea of tall and wonderful and very beautiful goldenrod.

I regret now that I did not have a camera with me because it caught me so off guard and because it was so stunning.................

Heading back into the woods and again running on single track.............

Holly is not abundant on these trails but it was a welcome sight the other day, and I happily stopped at the top of a very steep and long hill to take this picture............

I had approached this downed tree from the other end of the trail, and as I approached the obstacle had planned on turning right and simply running the last 1/4 mile to the trail head where my truck was parked.

On the spur of the moment I crawled underneath the log and continued running on the wide open and leaf filled double track.

I thought that I remembered it opening up to a large and wide open space that contained a structure used mostly by horse riders who also share these trails.

I had been to the structure after turning off single track and picking up a connecting trail a few months ago.

If this trail went where I thought that it did I was only a couple of minutes away from it..............

The structure where I have spent time in the past sitting and eating and relaxing after both runs and bikes.

I was happy to see it and happy to be able to wander down a dirt and gravel trail only a short way to my truck.

A tough run physically and psychologically.

But I also had the chance to be alone on these trails in a place that is a second home to me.

I ran again a couple of days later, still in the grey of the sky and the brown of the woods

Running better and stronger and faster this time but without taking time to stop or look around me or take pictures of where I had traveled.

The tough slogging run and the faster stronger run turned out, at the end of the stories, to both be good runs ................

Spoken about Roger Bannister, the first man to break the 4-minute mile.

One late afternoon, after swimming in a lake, he began to jog around to ease his chill. Soon enough he found himself running for the sheer exhilaration of it, across the moor and toward the coast. The sky filled with crimson clouds, and as he ran a light rain started to fall. With the sun warming his back, a rainbow appeared in front of him, and he seemed to run toward it. Along the coast the rhythm of the water breaking against the rocks eased him, and he circled back to where he had begun. Cool, wet air filled his lungs. Running into the sun now, he had trouble seeing the ground underneath his feet, but still he rushed forward, alive with the movement. Finally spent as the sun disappeared from the horizon, he tumbled down a light hill and rested on his back, his feet bleeding, but feeling rejuvenated. He needed to reconnect to the joy of running, to get away from the tyranny of the track.............