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Today’s run on the East Boulder Trail began with 70° air and wet mist in my face. The clouds were thick riding on wind from the mountains. September’s coming. I looked into her gray eyes as I climbed each hill, and felt the coolness of her breath on my skin.
With a mile and a half and the water tank hill remaining of my run, she increased her intensity, blowing wind at my chest and raining hard. The dirt turned to muddy clod on my shoes. I slipped a few times, but with my trail spirit Lobo running alongside me, I never fell.
A week ago, I was depressed, unable to run this trail without walking the hills. I was ready to abandon running, but running won’t give me up. With the cool, wet weather, I completed every hill today. If you were out there too, then you know what I’m talking about. September coming to Colorado is an almost mythical experience. Like U2 at Red Rocks. After reaching the top of the water tank hill, the sun lit up platinum-blue clouds over the Indian Peaks. Mountains previously obscured by forest fire haze. It was magical.
The rain stopped as I reached my car. I brought along a dry shirt, so I used my drenched T as a blanket for my muddy shoes. I don’t mind getting dirty with running though. I pray for more of the same tomorrow.
A Runner's Story 