First light. Leaving the car park, the noise and the fumes behind, I plunge into the trees, the mellow vibes of Incubus Radio setting the pace, the autumn foliage above bathing the world in a warm orange glow and dappling the leaf-strewn path at my feet. Pitter, patter.
Dew-drenched grass licks hungrily at my ankles, and it is good. Mist hangs suspended over a pond like a snug, grey blanket. The path weaves left, then right, then right again, gradually climbing.
A sip of my water bottle and I run on, penetrating deeper, deeper into the forest – my forest, at least for now. A startled deer looks up, further on a chipmunk, and another and yet a third, its striped back waving to me as it darts away. "I really shouldn't," it seems to chirp, "but Hi!"
Higher I climb, ever higher, sharp right and then left, while the sun, radiant, golden, climbs with me. I pass a moss- and reed-filled pond half-lit, half still in slumber, and that also is good. Up ahead an intersection. Which way? The longer way!
My steps are light, and I too dart over the rocks, the stones and the roots, right, right again, now left. Warmed like a snake on a path in the morning, I shed my T-shirt and immediately increase my pace, topless and free, a wild animal finally released from its shackles. I am one with the forest; this is what I do.
The path slopes steeply down and, lifting my arms to soar, I thrill at the sensation of falling, falling. On I go, past a small lake. Pitter, patter. The sun is high now, and the lily pads on the water reflect its rays like myriad silver mirrors.
Another sip from my bottle and I run on, barely touching the ground, right turn, hairpin left, then down again. And suddenly – almost too soon – I emerge from my leafy womb, out into the brilliant light. Now I too am radiant, vibrant, tingling with energy. I look down at my watch: has it really been two-and-a-half hours?
To be honest, who needs drugs, alcohol, caffeine? I ran the trails this morning, and in just a few hours I became the sun.
Dew-drenched grass licks hungrily at my ankles, and it is good. Mist hangs suspended over a pond like a snug, grey blanket. The path weaves left, then right, then right again, gradually climbing.
A sip of my water bottle and I run on, penetrating deeper, deeper into the forest – my forest, at least for now. A startled deer looks up, further on a chipmunk, and another and yet a third, its striped back waving to me as it darts away. "I really shouldn't," it seems to chirp, "but Hi!"
Higher I climb, ever higher, sharp right and then left, while the sun, radiant, golden, climbs with me. I pass a moss- and reed-filled pond half-lit, half still in slumber, and that also is good. Up ahead an intersection. Which way? The longer way!
My steps are light, and I too dart over the rocks, the stones and the roots, right, right again, now left. Warmed like a snake on a path in the morning, I shed my T-shirt and immediately increase my pace, topless and free, a wild animal finally released from its shackles. I am one with the forest; this is what I do.
The path slopes steeply down and, lifting my arms to soar, I thrill at the sensation of falling, falling. On I go, past a small lake. Pitter, patter. The sun is high now, and the lily pads on the water reflect its rays like myriad silver mirrors.
Another sip from my bottle and I run on, barely touching the ground, right turn, hairpin left, then down again. And suddenly – almost too soon – I emerge from my leafy womb, out into the brilliant light. Now I too am radiant, vibrant, tingling with energy. I look down at my watch: has it really been two-and-a-half hours?
To be honest, who needs drugs, alcohol, caffeine? I ran the trails this morning, and in just a few hours I became the sun.
1 comment:
Mum says:
Jan, that is quite brilliant! Have it published in the local paper, but then you might find other runner where you have been.
I really, really liked it!
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