Spring Run

After 3 days of no running, probably the longest stretch in a very long time, I ran a long loop across Park, to the Seminoles and up to Stirling and all the way across to make an 8-9 mile loop. The backs of my legs are sore as hell today, but it was worth every step. The air, which was churned up with earlier rains, and the unsettled, newly minted spring winds, were a joyful relief swirling around me; casting gusts of cool, crisp motion against me, or behind me, as direction dictated. It was a chance to lose myself in the depths of Nature, and feel the shift and change in the polarities of seasons, as something spinning on extraordinarily large levels continues to move, faster, and faster.

I felt some strength, occasional bursts of speed and bliss to be out on my beloved open road alone. I had all the room in the world to watch my thoughts rise and fall with my footsteps. I practiced catching the space between my thoughts, between the footfalls, where the pain and discomfort was suspended, and was able to endure longer passages of running without getting caught up in the thought "when will this be over"?
I needed as much distance between my world and the world of work, worries about others. The mind that watches the skies, and absorbs the sun through tired eyes relaxed in the pursuit of the trail. Steady on, bit by bit, until the run was done.

I have sensed the entire fabric of spring like an electric blanket, not of heat but of energy, falling over the earth from grids that permeate the space between us. The matrix of motion is falling deeper into us. We chafe at the amplification, turning up and up as the times and tides continue to build. Choosing a place which is safe, and grounding becomes key. For me, the stance on my own two feet becomes as solid as anything, even as I move with the winds.