One Last Time

I managed to squeeze in one last run on my favorite local trail between all the packing and planning this week. It was perfect spring weather and perfectly soggy in spots, a fitting finale for this dirt and trees lover.

That little 2.5 mile out-and-back has come to mean a lot to me over the last five-and-a-half years, both as a runner and a hiker. I logged hundreds of miles in the midst of its solitude, first as a trail runner, then on casual weighted practice hikes while I got my body used to carrying a backpack. I’ve seen deer, foxes, rabbits and a lone coyote. I even treed a startled black bear cub one morning as I turned tail and fled, not wishing to come between the little one and its mother. On the athletic fields that blossom from either end of the trail I pitched my tent outdoors for the first time, dug the tips of my trekking poles deep into mud and snow, and gave the Vibram outsoles on my Merrells a trial-by-fire on wet and slippery terrain of all types.

There are hundreds of woodsy trails in Virginia, and I’m so looking forward to tramping on as many as I can, whenever I can. And as I sit in my living room watching the movers empty our belongings into a twenty-five foot truck, I’m anxious to get started on my exploration of the Commonwealth…


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