A religious experience: Loch Raven trail-running

In spite of the howling winds blowing the creaking, looming and leafless trees I was dazzled by the beauty that surrounded me.  The trails of the Loch Raven Reservoir are mostly strewn with leaves and this always makes me cautious of losing my way.  However, would getting lost in a place like this really be that bad?

The solitude involved with trail running is something that takes a period of adjustment.  Being alone in your head can be somewhat overwhelming at times.  As you wind along the paths covered in leaves, roots, rocks and soft earth, your body relaxes and thoughts sort themselves out as they neatly line up to be addressed one by one.

When I run the trails I wear my watch, but I do not time it.  I only need a rough estimate on the time I leave and when I return.  Though I am curious to my exact distance and pace, it's almost better to run on trails naked, so to speak.

It is mandatory you stay in tune your body so that you are aware of your footing, your balance, and your surroundings.  I do not run with headphones in the woods, all my senses are in use and I don't want anything to dampen my experience. Unless I know exactly where I am going and for how long, I usually take water with me.  Part of the enjoyment in trail running comes from the unknown and if I'm going to get lost I need to be prepared.

Every time I head out, I hope to find a new path.  Today I discovered not only a new path but an entire loop.  When I come to forks and crossroads I give myself only a split second to decide: right, left, or straight.  I don't pick the hardest or the easiest path, nor do I pick the one that looks the most-traveled.  I just pick the one that seems to fit.

view from the Dog Grave as I sit on the bench

Three points of interest today: The first I already anticipated.  It's referred to as the Dog Grave.  Only ten minutes of running from my house and you can reach it.  The Dog Grave is an area that is well-worn.  In a corner, under a tree, lies a pile of dog toys and a stepping stone with a small memorial to a man's best friend.  Directly 180 degrees from the grave is a make-shift bench between two trees.  The bench overlooks a great watery expanse.  For me, it is a must to sit here for a minute and take in the scenery.

Humbling expanse of trees

The second point of interest is a little harder to describe.  As I go up and down hills I am reveling at the size of the trees and the extent to which they expand. I stop for a moment and look up and out at the trees as they go on as far as the eye can see.  I suddenly feel dwarfed by my surroundings. I come to my first four-way trail intersection.  Merely listening to my internal compass, I turn left and head up the winding path through the ominous forest.

The third point happened by accident.  I didn't know when I turned left at the intersection that I would find my way back into familiar territory.   Nothing in the scenery clearly presented this evidence, but I felt like I've been here before. As I run, I take in my surroundings and, based only on intuition, I can immediately sense that if I keep going I will end up where I started.  That's when I pass one of my favorite 'off the beaten path' paths.  It took me a minute to realize what it was since I was coming from the other direction.

On top of the world

A smile spreads across my face and I turn down my path.  The wind picks up as I go along.  Wind is a common occurence along this path because you are essentially running along the top of a hill unshielded in any direction.  I come to my rocky end.  I stand there for a minute and feel as if I am standing on top of the world.  I have stood on my peak many times before and held a plethora of private thoughts. Though the wind numbs my face, I let out a sigh of gratitude for what I hold today. Thank God for this; I turn back.