I can't believe that summer is over--where did it go?
But it is over, and I know this because today I ran through snow up in the higher elevations, after struggling up massive and muddy hills and almost colliding with an angry moose.
And suddenly there it was:
The dog was excited. She's a cold-weather type (granddaughter of an Iditarod racer) and took off. She came back with a piece of a dead and bloody animal, and I thought: "Oh shit, bears."
But nothing growled and charged so we continued running.
I passed three hikers sitting down on the trail. They were dressed in full winter gear, including mittens, and gaped at me as if I were naked as I ran by in my capris and tech shirt.
I love being up in the mountains, love the silence and the wind in my face and the smells and the freedom. Often I pass no one the whole 7-10 miles and it's as if I am alone in the world. Running in the mountains helps me shrug off my ego and dive down closer to the spirit.
What a luxury. What a gift.
Unfortunately, the run had to end and I drove home, ate dinner and started obsessing: Do I stay here in Seward, even though there are no jobs for someone with a master's in writing? Do I move back to Anchorage, where there are jobs and opportunities and creative energies and hundreds of miles of trails right outside the city but also, alas, noise and traffice and crime?
I ate a Larabar instead. Then I ate another.
Thank god for high-calorie sweet foods that are supposedly healthy so that you can eat a lot without feeling guilty.
P.S. I can't post on anyone's blog, think it's my shoddy Internet connection or maybe my settings are messed up. My apologies.
Runs: Monday: 9.4 miles, race pace
Tuesday: 7.1 miles, rough and glorious mountain trail
Reading: "The Pianist" by Wladyslaw Szpilman. So, so good but a tough and heart-wrenching read.