So I’m running a path I’ve run countless times before when I’m struck by a thought: I’ve actually never run this path before.
I love the trails, the quiet yet distinct sounds of nature. I love the music that is played as the wind dances amongst the branches and leaves of the trees. I love the bits of curious nature that wander out to greet me; making eye contact, sharing their woods, and then leaving me be.
………and I love the path.
The path is so familiar to me. I can speak of the turns, the twists, the slopes and mile markers that distinguish the path. I can describe the path in such a way that even a stranger could feel as if they knew the trail. Yet, here is also where it is brand new………for each and every time I run; the path is it’s own.
The fall brings a change of color amongst the leaves and a path that often becomes nothing more than pools of mud. My shoes slip and my toes have blistered battle scares. The path becomes rugged, protecting itself from the impending cold that is forth coming. Leaves bury trail traps and staying on ones feet, is a feet.
Winter brings with it days where the path is forbidden. Buried beneath mounds and mounds of snow. To go in may mean to not come back out. My footprints are only my own and a mile in may as well be eternity.
In the spring the path is a blossoming of new life. A chance to unshed some of the layers and find a spring in the step that during the winter was muted. There may be mud, there may be the remnants of ice, but there are also buds and blossoms and the promise of the new.
Summer, a chance to experience perfection. Fragrant smells, the earthy-ness of the path being kicked up with every step. Rocks are visible and can be scampered over like play. It’s a chance to unlock oneself and let the joy that comes with being out in nature wash over.
………and so I run. I run these paths, that much like life, may initially seem as the same. They may appear to repeat themselves day in and day out; but if you look carefully, if you look really carefully, you’ll see each day that the path brings forth a unique self. A unique way to run, footing that will never exactly be the same, a speed that will only match that moment, and a setting unable to ever be duplicated again.
…..and if you get caught looking back too long, you’ll run into a tree, and miss your present. So I lace up and run a route I may know, but a path that is yet to be revealed.
Groovy Girls Go……..On Familiar Routes but certainly New Paths