It's been less than a week since I proclaimed the (early) end of my race season and already I'm in better spirits and feel less fatigued. This morning, with no scheduled workouts and some extra time, I was able to get out in beautiful weather and enjoy a pre-breakfast trail run.  The house was quiet as I laced my running shoes and headed off, anxious to hit the dirt.
Once in the woods I was instantly glad to be there. I took my time and ran as my mind and body told me too, stopping to appreciate beauty, or sprinting up a hill for no other reason than to feel my legs burn. I found myself lingering over the smallest of wild flowers, stopping to take a picture, then sneaking along quietly so as not to scare off a pack of wild turkeys ahead on the trail (they were too fast for me and disappeared quickly into the brush). I wondered if a bow hunter might be observing me from a lofty vantage point. My eyes scanned tree branches looking for a tree stand, thinking I might catch a glimpse. But if there, it was a presence that remained unknown to me, and my solitude felt pure and right.

The sun coming up through the trees.

I was glad. Glad to be on my favorite trail to start the day. Glad to not have to think about anything other than where to start and stop. Glad I was able to be out doing what I love. Glad to be enjoying a trail and taking my time.

Huron River at River Bend