It’s the summer in Georgia, and although it is a much different animal than the last seven summers that we have spent in South Georgia, it’s still Georgia, and it is still HOT. I ran some miles in the morning last week (thank you, thank you), some in the heat of the afternoon, and some in the evening. I ran some in the blazing sun, and some in the glorious rain. But by Friday, I was feeling the weight of the summer. I was heavy-legged and worn out. On Friday, I decided to hit some trails near my house. In so doing, I experienced God’s creation like I had not experienced it in a while, and it restored something in my soul that had been depleted by all the road running I have been doing recently.
The green meadow gave way to a gorgeous trail, which wound to and fro through the forest, taking me closer and closer to the river, until I could hear it’s constant and mesmerizing flow.
I stepped out onto the smooth rock, and noticed that the air here was significantly cooler, with a breeze that seemingly brought my effort level down about three notches. I paused at the river, but pulled myself reluctantly back onto the trail and continued on.
Eventually, I hit an area of trail amidst a heavy pine presence, and the ground was carpeted with the most lovely, soft bed of pine needles I have ever run on. I felt like I was bounding down the path on a Tigger tail. When the trail opened back up to the Jeep road, I was sad…and that is when I realized what a gift God had given me. The trails allow me to run wild and free. They give my body time to intertwine with nature, instead of just admiring it as an outsider, from behind a window of glass.