sleeping giant

i left the demons and drama in the car, along with my shirt. i knew what color the diamonds were marking the trail. i knew i was in a strange land and i knew that if i followed those white diamonds nailed into the occasional tree it would bring me back to this place. it was unplanned, all of this, but i needed to be here. i didn't know how long it was or how much it gained or lost, i didn't care. i knew it was rocky by the way the first 10 steps beyond the trail head looked, but i wasn't concerned about my feet. i didn't have a water bottle or gels, and all of that was okay, too.

there is something familiar in these hills. it all looked very much like trail i had once been on before and while i was running i felt like i was getting closer and closer to home. i could see the resemblance to the southern cousins i used to haunt and i was invigorated by being there. i felt the humidity. the sweat. i could hear the creek either right by me or echoing up the valley to the overlooks that this trail kept taking me past. i saw caves, smelled rotting earth and run beneath the canopy of leaves that keeps these paths shaded and technical. i saw few footprints and was inspired to step lightly and not leave mine. it all comes back to this. it felt full circle. i remembered being hungry, once. driving myself out the door to paths likes these every single day and being filled with the passion that kept me seeking this entire time. those emotions and sensations have been dulled for a variety of reason. all of them aesthetic, external and really, not important. i felt inspired to add on, rather than look at the watch and gauge my effort. i took the time to stop and take in the view. i didn't withhold anything on my climbs or descents and if i crashed and bonked, i knew i would live through it. it's really not that big of a deal. it's just running.

sitting in the creek afterwards, watching tiny fish inspect my toes through the clear flow i couldn't keep my shit together. when did it all become so cloudy? who put the complications, there. the titles, the identity. the story. false goals. none of it matters. none of it. what's real is that hunger. those runs that you live for and further fuel the stoke for why we do this. that wisdom and confidence in races that you know your ready and it's time to enjoy the ride.

i'm ready to get going again. renewed.