When I consider the last eight years, 2004 to 2012, running is one of the few constants I maintained. During those years, I moved over 700 miles to go to school, I earned two degrees, I had several jobs, and I traveled extensively. Throughout running kept me grounded. It’s what I do when I am happy, upset, frustrated, confused, thoughtful; when I want to celebrate and when I want to escape; rarely is there a time I don’t want to go running.

Just the other day, it amused me to realize that I do not watch where I put every footfall (to be fair, I was not running trails). By rough estimate, I have run over 13,000 miles – enough miles for my brain to understand my stride and to know how to place my feet without being told. By contrast, when I was hiking to Tamassee Knob, I was often looking down, very conscious of the trail ahead, perhaps even more so than I would have been if running. I had to remind myself to look up and observe the beauty around me. By generous estimate, I have hiked about 300 miles. Perhaps if I hiked the AT or Pacific Crest Trail, I would have the same confidence in my hiking stride as I do my running stride.

Mid-fall is the season I love to run in most. Winter and spring running can be hit or miss when layering. Summer running can feel more like swimming in the humid southeast. Fall running takes a comfortable lead: with crisp mornings and warm afternoons; sunsets of yellow, orange, pink, and purple; and wisps of clouds brushed into the sky, there is so much to enjoy. In the fall, I wish I was running now and later and again. I cannot get enough.

There is so much more I have to say about running, but finding the right words is more challenging than a ten miler. I know running will continue to influence the person I become, so do not be surprised if we occasionally run laps around this topic.