Painting

Colder weather running returned the past 2 days. Temps in the 30s and 40s. Had to put on a beanie and gloves for the first time since last spring. Always something ritualistic like though when coming upon that first run of the season where we  dress different... ie a knit hat/ gloves... or conversely that first shirt-less run. The passage of time can be measured, and the approach of new seasons can be gauged by the clothes donned to run.

Sunday morning and I take notice to how crystalline blue the sky looks... literally cloudless as well. Contrasted against the hues of green atop the pine trees in the woods. Internally I smile in the presence of Mother Nature's art work. I  recall some lines of Jim Morrison's poetry... give us an hour to let us perform our art and perfect our lives... or something to that effect. Steve Prefontaine once called races works of art that can effect people in more ways than they can comprehend.

I think about expectations. And striving with the help of a higher power to have less and less of. 'Peace is possible only when we let go of expectations" is a favorite quote of mine. And the wisdom passed on by running coach Joe Vigil to ask nothing from your running... and you'll get more than you ever imagined.

Out here some days all of this seems possible. Spiritually we are without limits. Growth occurs with every step forward, no matter the speed or the terrain. Monday as I lope along a well traveled part of one of the CB State Park trails,  I try to just listen to and be consciously aware of the gentle thwapping of my sneakers on the dirt and pine straw... and the rhythm of my breathing. There's a certain cadence to it, and its like one is keeping time for the other. This of course soon passes as thoughts inevitably pop into my head. But as I look up at the liquid clear blue sky... again almost cloudless... I give thanks for another precious hour spent doing what I love to do.