As much as I try to live within the 18milesperhour way of thinking on a bike – going at just the right pace so you still take in the world around me – I often exceed that and the world passes by in a blur.
Especially on the little, seemingly insignificant routes I used to think of as mere “access trails.”
These are the ones that are usually between a mile and three miles long, often connecting the neighborhoods below to the main fire roads up in the hills. On a bike, they’re okay, but over in a blink and so I seldom really respected them, preferring instead to lavish my attention on the longer, unbroken trails.
But now that I’m adding in some off-road running, these trails are juuuuuust right. I park at the bottom and, within a quarter mile, I’m up in the nature I love so much.
They’re just steep and long enough to challenge the hell out of me.
Running on these trails has opened up areas of the mountain that I never before knew existed.
And they’ve also opened up new areas of myself that I never knew existed.
Because I’m a slow runner. I’ll never be a fast runner.
And as I plod up these trails and, after all these years, look around and take in their beauty…I don’t mind being slow.
It’s as if time, and my lifelong lack of running ability, is giving me exactly what I need right now.
And all it seems to want in return is my attention and my thanks.
So thank you.