I drove to a new (for me) access point to the Florida Trail in the Osceola National Forest, left my car on the side of the road, and bounded down the trail. I am not a slow walker, which is likely why long walks still leave me in some pain. What I'm realizing is that I am covering very little distance, and I am still adjusting to that. Slowing down, well slowing to more than 8:15 miles, is allowing me to truly take in my new home. Cypress trees are few, pines are plentiful. So much for the sandy paths that seems to drag my feet downward. These trails are hard packed, lightly covered with a layer of pine needles. My legs and hips are quite grateful for that. Time seems to pass quickly when there is so much to see and learn.
As I ate some good, small town BBQ that I picked up on the way home, I though 23 miles can come later. I suppose I have 365 days to get it in.