Thursday, November 28, 2013
If you ask, I won't quite admit to being a runner. I am not committed to racking miles on pavement. I don't enjoy races, or crowds. I hate repetitive routes. Timing means nothing to me.
Mostly I doggie run; a rhythmic heart racing movement that requires sudden stops to explore an unknown; a spree type of run-- dash up this hill, then trot, then walk, then a fast stretch down the backside, flying over tree roots and obstacles.
This morning I raced the receding morning shadows downhill and burst onto the beach as the sun vaulted over the rim of the coastal bluffs. Ms. Riley rolled in a patch of warm sand. I watched the darkness turn into shimmering sheets of light under my feet, the half moon parting from the horizon. This morning, I paused for beauty and was included in the glow of a new day.