The Run

Thank you everyone for your support on my last post. I am excited that others are interested in writing about their budgets as well. Let me think of a catchy name and make some artwork and we can link up to each other when we tackle the subject of budget so that everyone feels supported. Accountability will be had by all!

And now I think it’s time to talk about something else besides money. Savvy?

{We’ve been reading a pirate pony comic book A LOT lately.}

I have never considered myself “a runner,” but I have enjoyed several “running seasons” in my life. I ran a lot in college, mostly in the last two years and especially the year I lived abroad in Madrid.

I traveled around much of Europe the year I lived abroad and my running shoes went with me to every city. My favorite memories of most cities involve exploring somewhere unexpected in my tennis shoes. I have very fond memories of running that year in Europe.

One of my most treasured memories is of an early morning run in Paris, up the Seine from the Musée d’Orsay to the Eiffel Tower. It was January, and the mornings were dark. The night before it had snowed in the city (supposedly the first time that had happened in seven years) and the city was sleeping under a thin blanket of frozen white. The pre-dawn light made the snow almost glow.

It was a Sunday morning and I didn’t see one other person on my seven mile loop. There was only my feet crunching in the snow and my breath billowing past my face. I started at my favorite museum (the friend I was visiting lived next door!) and ran up the Seine until the Eiffel Tower loomed above me. I remember standing there, completely alone, the city blanketed in white, wondering how in the world I was lucky enough for this to be my life.

Over Memorial Day we rented a cabin near a lake with some friends. May was unseasonably chilly and I was nervous we’d be stuck at the cabin in 50* weather with four kids and nothing to do. Sure enough we woke up on Saturday to a cold, misty rain. I was devastated.

We walked the kids up to the lake anyway, to enjoy the view. In the parking lot we stopped to chat with two men who were clearly going for a run. They said a trail looped all the way around the lake; it was 3.5 miles long.

I had packed my running shoes and a sports bra, hoping I’d be able to sneak away for a quick jaunt at some point. By mid-morning the rain had stopped but it was still foggy and in the mid-50s, too cold to take the kids to swim at the lake, so I asked my husband if I could go for a quick run.

And I went.

It.

Was.

Awesome.

I was expected the trail to be a fire lane of some kind, and that’s how it started, but quickly it became a hiking trail that was always well marked but rarely level or clear of rocks or roots. Some sections required scrambling up huge boulders. I was definitely ill equipped without trail shoes and I’m lucky I didn’t twist my ankle or fall and break my wrist. There were definitely long sections that I had to walk for safety reasons.

Running around that lake I was reminded of what a gift running has been in my life. I would never have attempted that 3.5 mile trail if I hadn’t wanted to go on a run, and I would have missed some stunning scenery and breathtaking views.

That first morning was cold and foggy and it rained for part of the run. But it was also quiet and still, with almost no one on the trail. Watching my breath billow in front of my face I was reminded of that magical run up the Sen. Immediately I felt at peace.

The morning we left I woke up early to run the lake again. The second time it was sunny and almost warm, but still early enough that the trail wasn’t overrun with hikers. I took my phone to capture some of the majesty and to remind myself of what a joy running far from home can be.