In the years before my husband and I moved to Chapel Hill, I had run on trails when they presented themselves to me and when my work/life schedule allowed me to indulge in tracking down trails for an afternoon or morning run. Otherwise, we were busy with school, work, travel, living overseas, etc. and my choice of running terrain was often secondary to all the other busy events and changes in our lives. Although I enjoyed cross country running in college, I didn’t necessarily seek out trail running during my initial years after collegiate running.
Moving to Chapel Hill, however, has brought about many changes in my life - not the least of which is a metamorphosis within my perceptions about running terrains. I used to only think about when I would fit a run into my day; the where was an afterthought. But after three years of joyous running in this trail friendly locale, not a day goes by when I don’t also think about which trail loops will provide the physical space for my daily run. As a result, no matter how busy and/or stressful a full day of teaching is for me, trail running most afternoons has now become a necessary and meditative act.
Trails also bring out the childlike adventurer in me. These leafy pathways are both places to run alone, and also avenues to new friendships and experiences. I now have new friends who I share this love with, as well as an ever increasingly athletic golden retriever who enjoys going for an 8 mile trail run (almost) as much as I do!
This past Saturday I thoroughly enjoyed my experience at The Little River Trail Run. This 9 mile jaunt alongside a river and through the golden woods was both peaceful and energizing all at once. There is a calmness within a trail run, and even in a race, that can leave me more sure of myself than when I started. Yes, it can hurt in places (particular on the uphills!) but overall these experiences leave me feeling more in touch with the natural world and more certain of my love for this genre (for lack of a better word!) of running.
Here is a little video that The Trailheads forwarded my way. Enjoy!
Just a short hop, skip and a jump past Asheville, Maggie Valley awaits you! I just returned from a fantastic weekend racing the Maggie Valley 8K, cheering my sister on her run, staying near a ghost town and relishing the peace and quiet from our cabin lodgings (www.cataloochee-ranch.com). I learned this weekend that the Cherokee word cataloochee translates as ‘wave upon wave’ - and I found this metaphor apt for our weekend of laughter, racing, yummy food, and relaxation. I recommend it for anyone interested in a fabulous race nestled close to the Great Smoky Mountains National Park!
I am in the middle of a wonderful trip down memory lane in NYC and NJ. Rolling into town last weekend my husband and I enjoyed a fabulous wedding with a dear, old pal of mine from grammar school. No, you didn’t misread. Grammar School. In fact, I have multiple dear friends from that treasured time in my life. As much as I have grown up over the years, there is something so refreshingly honest about still being able to look into the faces of people I have known since I was 6 years of age. In addition, I not only have old and dear friends from that time, but I also have treasured running routes that span and spiral through my little old hometown in Northern NJ (exit 165 off the Parkway).
There is something so honest and pure about retracing one’s steps over carefully marked roads from years past. I have multiple loops that rope and wind along my first paper route, through makeshift games of hide and seek and wiffle ball, block parties, 4th of July parades, favorite place to play pick up basketball on summer nights, and past the street of my very first friend, Patty. Sentimental am I? Just a bit. At the same time, this nostalgia for the past is rejuvenating for my spirits. Every step along these quiet, leafy suburban streets emboldens me with a resurgence of energy for new things. Mileage, races, hills, all of it - somehow shoring up strength from my personal past seems like a sure way to race ahead towards the present and future. I embrace these quiet streets like the old friends they are to me, and along the way I am moved to train even harder for a future beyond these trusted roads.
Last week at my part time summer gig, I had an opportunity to work first hand with some future Olympians - 23 children ages 1-5 were set to compete in a junior, junior Olympic style event. Ecstatic to be asked to organize this event for the children, I wanted to make sure everything ran as smoothly as possible.
So, like any adult about to face 23 young, eager faces, I checked and double checked that I had everything ready. A collection of precious faux gold medals complete with red, white and blue ribbons to make it easier for each child to eventually wear their competitive boon - check. 23 colorful certificates bearing the carefully handwritten name of each child in as official looking a signature as I could muster - check. The final rosters for the 4 teams - sun, crayon, moon and star squads - check. 4 different competitive events - Fashion Divas, Puzzlers, Water Balloon Toss, Relay Race - set up on 4 different areas on the lawn - check. I was ready to go. Or, was I?
As the hour of approached I began to feel a few butterflies of my own in my stomach. Even though I checked and rechecked, what if there were still some missing pieces for the puzzles? There could be a possible catastrophe if a certain 3 year old got to the end of constructing one of the puzzles and there was a piece missing. And, as I was learning this summer, sometimes toddlers get distracted; what if one of them didn’t focus and tripped during the relay race? Did I really know how to calm down a temper tantrum? What if the fashion diva competition (where the children and their parent partner have to run down, don a bunch of clothes that are from my 1990s, 80s craze over their own clothes and then run back to the finish line) didn’t make sense to the kids?
As the start time of 6:30pm approached, I let out a deep breath, tepidly reached out to push the official start button - the Eye of the Tiger song from Rocky blasting from a CD player - and all of a sudden 23 little children and their accompanying parents were off and running across the wide, green lawn. I let my breath out and hoped for the best.
What impressed me most about each and every child was how they immediately just dug in, went with the moment, and engaged with the events in the ways that made the most sense for them. There was the little 4 year old girl who didn’t want to toss the ‘pretty balloon’ (as she called it) during the water balloon toss - she chose to instead keep it as her pet for the rest of the competition! Running the fastest didn’t even matter to some kids. In fact, there was one boy who was so taken with the relay event that he insisted on running the event twice, even if the rest of his team had moved to the next event! There was a child who preferred to choose the clothes that matched best, rather than rush to win the Fashion Diva competition. And, there was even the adorable 3 year old girl in the puzzler competition who just wanted to stay at that event and keep constructing more of the animal shaped puzzles!
As I placed a gold medallion over each child’s neck at the end and everyone cheered, I felt honored to be in the presence of such athletic, creative and promising young athletes. And, maybe, just maybe, I learned a thing or two as well! Keep an eye out for them in a good 20 years!
The ripped out page from the sports magazine was probably bright pink, purple or blue - maybe even a slim stripe or two ran down the length of the glossy advertisement - but no matter about those aesthetic details for my purposes here. Rather, it is the expression that is of significance.
For most of us, we engage in work that is satisfying, and if we are lucky – and I do count myself very lucky – we even love what we do and have a passion for what it is that occupies us on a daily basis. I spend most of my waking hours planning and writing lessons, teaching plays and novels, grading papers, coaching 7th and 8th graders in track, and responding to questions from my 11th and 12th grade students – despite how exhausted all of this can make me the profession of teaching is my passion. I love it. I am consumed by all of it. I wouldn’t trade these experiences for anything. But, that isn’t the whole story, actually. There is more to me.
The above phrase defines this piece of writing not because it is a sagacious saying passed down from generation to generation - in fact, I am sure Emerson could have offered me something else entirely different at that point in my life! But life sometimes comes down to timing. I came across this particular phrase at a pivotal moment in my life. During the end of my sophomore year of college I grappled with what felt like the biggest decision of my life up to that point. I wanted to give up collegiate basketball and try out for the women’s cross country team. Basketball had defined me for as long as I could remember, so contemplating the act of walking away from this sport was charting undefined and murky waters. I worried that the decision was bigger than me – maybe there wasn’t enough of me left over if I made this choice. At the same time, the very act of making this decision and taking ownership over my life felt like the one true thing I could do that year. Years have passed between that decision and now. Looking back I see that my life has been defined by events of even more significance. Between then and now I have moved to London and back, exchanged wedding vows with my husband, lost my older brother to cancer, said goodbye to my sister as she moved across the country, and watched my parents pass their 39th wedding anniversary. But, through all of these subsequent experiences running has been my constant. It has become my daily act of affirming my significance in a much larger universe. Through the act of choosing running, despite all of my greatest fears and anxieties pounding in my head, I found that there was so much more to me. Even though I closed the door on one chapter of my life, there was an even more exciting journey awaiting me!
This previously uncharted journey has recently brought me to the shores of CAC. The excitement I feel towards this opportunity makes me feel like I am back in college again and I am striding towards significant decisions. It is empowering. I chose the adventure and challenge of running at a pivotal point in my life, and along the way I think the sport chose me back. Most recently, CAC has provided me with a unique and wonderful opportunity. I can’t wait to see what lies ahead for all of us through CAC! Bon Voyage!
skink: a skink’s taleI was using a sharp, pointed shovel to really turn the earth and on one fierce downward thrust, I unintentionally chopped off the tail of a blue skink (lizard). The tail-less lizard skittered off, while - to my utter surprise and …
