Joy

Yesterday some friends and I drove out to a cabin in a remote area of beautiful West Virginia. Truth be told, it's not the most gorgeous time of year for a trip to this area...no pretty green spring or summer foliage like that advertised on the website, no gorgeous snow covered trees. Instead, we were met with dead-looking trees still sleepy from winter and a blanket of dry, brown, crunchy leaves remaining from last fall covering the ground. But, the timing worked for us. And, there's beauty in the stillness and simple tranquility of this place. It's nice to be here...in these quiet moments.

Last night we arrived at our cabin around six pm. After unloading our car containing food, wine and shopping bags that were a telling statement of girls who did FAR too much big-city shopping in DC on Thursday, I hurriedly pulled on some running pants (I spent the day of travel and outlet mall shopping sporting workout shirts layered on top and jeans on the bottom, planning ahead for a quick-change run later) and headed out the door to explore our surroundings with a quick run before night fell.

I was a bit wary of running alone in this unfamiliar and fairly desolate area and was hyper-tuned-in to my surroundings. I didn't wear headphones so that I'd be able to hear anything (animals? Cars? People??) that happened to be around. I tend to default to mild paranoia when running alone in new areas...I've read/heard too many reports of jogger-abductions and my mother all-too-often warns me she doesn't want to see me end up on an episode of Dateline.

Four minutes into my run, I heard footsteps in the leaves to the right of my path. I slowed down significantly, wondering what in the heck I'd see come out of the woods. Seconds later, seven nervous deer sprinted and jumped across the road, feet in front of me. As their thick white tails bobbed further and further away my heart rate slowed a bit. After that I kept thinking I heard various wildlife in the trees, waiting to run out and scare the crap out of me.

I continued on my merry way and fought my way up and down the West Virginia hills. My IL legs definitely aren't used to hills like that!! It's really too bad that I forgot my heart rate monitor...I'm sure my short little run produced some significant heart rate spikes, between the dramatically rolling hills and the wildlife. Yeah....I'm a wimp.

I wrapped up my thirty-minute run right before darkness fell, feeling a bit wussy having run only thirty minutes. But...I reminded myself that I AM on vacation...so taking it a bit easy this weekend is really ok I guess. I can't help but feel guilty, though, for "slacking"! I joined my compadres in our cabin's hot tub and enjoyed half a glass of wine and some snacks. It was a pretty great evening.

This morning, Jillian and I got up before our other three weekend roommates and did a 35-minute run together. While I'm perfectly content running solo, I thoroughly enjoy running with good friends for some company, conversation and commiseration.

It was freeing to run this morning without worrying about distance or heart rate (I allowed myself the freedom from those thoughts here this weekend). It is so, so amazing to run for sheer enjoyment, for the sheer joy of moving and being alive and here, in this moment. I'm looking forward to getting home and back to the structure of life/work/real training (maybe I'm crazy...but I do thrive on structure)...and I can't help but let my mind wander to all of the tasks waiting for me at home. However, it's pretty great to be here for a break right now. As Tano, our ahhhhhmazing yoga instructor in DC Thursday morning reminded us during a particularly challenging pose, "We only have this moment; the next one isn't promised to us."

Today....relaxation. Tomorrow...back to reality.