And occasionally I go running...

[Charliecat5]

I often think, in those more romantic moments, that part of my soul is lost out in the hills.  Like a benign Horcrux (I haven’t murdered anyone... yet) part of my soul exists beyond my being.   I say this because it seems quite a lot these days that the only time I feel whole is when out in the hills.  Sometimes when I have a couple of skies strapped to my feet, but more often when I’m out running.  
 
And yes, I am running. In fact, I’m running reasonably well. Most weeks I will manage a long one at the weekend with a short sortie during the week.  I have lost a bit of weight, started to work on strengthening my core, and the hills have become easier.  Moreover, I have ditched the technology.  Running only with a basic watch so I make it home in reasonable time. The Garmin hasn’t been on my wrist for over two months.  And I love it.  It defines a new era in my running career.  I no longer care how far I go, or indeed how fast I run.  I just love being out there in the hills.  I have a much better sense of my being now, and the morning after will always tell me how hard I worked.
 
Adventures are finding new trails and places to run.  Being more aware of surroundings and taking the track less trodden has provided different perspectives.  Coming off Caburn last night is a case in point.  Dropping down into a valley that I knew existed, but didn’t really, provided a whole new dimension to what is a very familiar route, made more special as the sun dropped over the horizon. 
 
Stopping is also a thing. Taking the time to sit on the tops and enjoy the view, or the valley bottoms as the mist burns off, the woods in the early evening.  To breath it in and appreciate the effort taken to get there.  Otherwise, what is the point.