This past weekend I flew out to Minneapolis to help my niece celebrate her 5th Birthday and spend time with family. With my running shoes packed tightly in my suitcase, I had plans to wake up early to log some miles before the days kicked into high gear.
My sister's house is steps away from a running trail, which is a wonderful thing. I’d wake up while it was still dark out, dress in the layers I had laid out the night before to shield me from the 40 degree chill, put on my Garmin, Fitbit and RoadID, and warm-up a bit in the room where I was sleeping before grabbing my sunglasses and phone and heading towards the trail.
Saturday morning I set out with a goal of 7 miles - my longest run since pre-popliteus injury. I had studied google maps the night before and had an idea of where my run would take me, but as I was on the trail running through woods and marshland, I realized that it's rare that we actually know where our runs will take us, whether we're on a new path or one we've taken hundreds times before. And that’s a big part of the allure, isn't it?
Physically, this run took me to a silent lake where my only company consisted of a few fishermen on a dock and a man out for a morning walk with his dog. It was clear the beach is well loved on warm days, but on this particular morning I felt like the lake was my little secret slice of peace.
All throughout the run my mind wandered here and there, thinking about where I’ve been and where I want to go. Both in terms of running and in life. For too long I haven’t had the luxury to let my mind wander on a run, rather too focused on how my legs are feeling and how well I can breathe. So this run was a welcomed respite.
In stark contrast to the calm lake, my 7.5 mile run finished at a bustling car show just down the road from my sister’s neighborhood where I met up my parents to ogle over beautiful cars in elaborate garages.
Where does running take you?
