Universal Beauty and Marjorie

As I drove down the dirt road in the Osceola National Forest and parked along the side, I immediately noticed that I am not the only person who enjoys this remote location.  The seclusion is part of the allure, for myself, as well as others it seemed.  Recently dumped, scattered, and left, the road was carpeted with red shotgun shell casings and other remnants.  Garbage littered at least seventy five meters of the path.   I was overcome with a feeling of disgust.

I took to the trails I had intended to travel that afternoon, unable to deal with all of the garbage then.

When I returned, I dug out a plastic Target sack from my trunk and made my way down the road.  Over forty shotgun shells, a pair of neon orange ear plugs, numerous Gatorade bottles, water bottles mutilated with bullet holes, little cardboard boxes, and clay targets and their fragmented pieces overflowed and stretched the bag.

 

 

"The destruction seemed to me a symbol of private intrusion on the right of all mankind to enjoy universal beauty" (Cross Creek, 1996 edition, p. 378).

Their actions were selfish and disgusting.  They do not own the land, yet they treat it worse than if they did.  Over the last few pages of Cross Creek, Marjorie discuss the ownership of land: "No man should have property rights over land who does not use that land wisely and lovingly" (Cross Creek, p. 379).  So then, why do some feel the need to treat land that is for all mankind in such a way?  That is what breaks my heart.  We've all seen a stray bottle here and there, but never have I encountered such a deliberate scene like this one, especially in a place that I have grown to cherish these last few months as I have learned the landscape.  It pains me to think that these people got some sort of thrill from leaving their mark in the forest.

 

As it is National Trails Day, I hope that you can get out and enjoy the paths and maybe even have the opportunity to do good.  I suppose that is the thing to take away from this.  There are plenty of people who do not respect the land, but I know many more who do.

 

"We know only that a sense of well-being sweeps over us when we have assisted life rather than destroyed it.  There is often an evil satisfaction in hate, satisfaction in revenge, and satisfaction in killing.  Yet a wave of love takes over a human being, love of another human being, love of nature, love of all mankind, love of the universe, such an exaltation takes him that he knows he has put his finger on the pulse of the great secret and the great answer" (Cross Creek, p.377).

 

 

 

Marjorie continues to impress me with her words.  Stumbling upon beautifully accurate phrases like this and moments like this somehow still surprises me.  It shouldn't, but I am glad I am still discovering new bits of wisdom from Cross Creek.

Fast Trails

Finding places like this really makes me want to run, and run fast.  Long, hard-packed dirt road in the woods with no traffic.  It's like a cross between the J. B. Starkey bike path and power line road.  Perfection.  Can't wait to train here and run some strong quarters and kilometers.

I can't deny that I tested out a section of the road for about 100 meters.  How could I pass it up?  Great news: it runs fast. 

A Few Firsts

 

I have made my first loop route in the Osceola National Forest!  Loops, as opposed to out-and-back routes, are true milestones for a runner in a new environment.  It means that I am gaining confidence on the trails (Florida Trail and all of those that intersect) and with the lay of the land.  I am understanding how the trail system works and how to use to get where I want to go. 

 

 

I also fell for the first time.  Somehow I managed that while walking.  It was a pretty hard fall, but I realized that I haven't had one in a while.  I usually average one good one a year.  I was due.

 

Yes, I am still walking, but with much less pain.  Even my quick walking which really is borderline walking, only left me sore for the next few hours.  I feel that I am getting better, just slowly.

 

 

This was the first time that I felt like I did when I was running, and running far.  It was the first warm, blue sky day in weeks.  Stunningly beautiful weather, a new route under my belt, and a dirt road on which to stretch and take in the surroundings, I don't know what could be much better than that.

 

 



Friends

She is undoubtedly the only person I know who truly understands how I feel about this land.  We are both runners, painters, art educators, and lovers of color.  When friends like this visit, no matter what the weather, we will embark on an adventure.  This particular Sunday happened to be cold, rainy, overcast, and wonderful.

Exploring off trail

 

Amongst the pines along the Florida Trail in the Osceola National Forest, time seems to stand still. Minutes seem like seconds, and the hours we spent out on the paths felt just as short. Reunited on the trail, it had seemed like no time had passed, although we had not spent a significant period of time one on one since Summer.

We spoke about teaching, school, birds, exhibits, texture, friends, relationships, and the future. We took pictures of the north Florida winter colors in an attempt to memorize their beauty and composed paintings in our heads. Photographs never do a landscape justice, we decided. We found tree stands, and scaled them, naturally, taking in the view from above. Only as we climbed down and made our way to the trail head, did we take note of the time. When did we start walking? We had forgotten to start our watch. So when do you need to head home? She would begin her teaching internship the next morning.

As we were walking down the last stretch of the dirt road leading to the car, an older couple in a faded blue pick-up truck, concluding a day of hunting, made their way down the road, as well.

"How long have y'all been out here?" said the man, clearly confused by two soaking wet, twenty-somethings walking down the flooded road.

"I have no idea," I laughed. Alone in the woods, we were able to talk like no time had passed.  Time on the trails seems to slow.  And, with good friends, that is always a good thing.

Saturday Scenery

 

 

As I was looking through photographs saved on my computer, I stumbled upon this one of the beautiful pines along Florida Trail in the Osceola National Forest.  So lucky to have this stunning landscape as (practically) my backyard!  Enjoy the trails, wherever you may be, this weekend!

The pace of my twenty-third

A year ago, after I finished twenty-two miles for the very first time in celebration of my twenty-second birthday, I had no doubt I would be running twenty-three at the end of the next November.  Maybe I could even hit faster mile splits during the second half and run on 3:20 marathon pace.  Well, some things just don't go as planned.  This year, I walked.  Not twenty-three miles, but forty-two minutes.

 

 

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.

 

 

 

Just as my watch ticked 42:30, I returned to my car parked alongside the quiet road. The wind rustled the needles at the tops of the pines, the sun casting long shadows of the trees on the palmettos below. I am so glad that this is my home. Most twenty-three year olds who I know, just out of college, it seems, would much rather move to large cities and enjoy the busier, faster way of life. Well, I am quite happy with my pace in my small town.

 

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. 

A Walk Along the Florida Trail

About a week ago, I gave into the temptation of  the Osceola National Forest.  The vast, stunning landscape sits just a few miles from where I live, and it has been unbelievably difficult to restrain from long walks and runs.  I knew the pain would be too great if I visited as often as I would like. 

I started at the trailhead down by the Oulstee Battlefield.  I took to the Florida trail, where the single track route meanders through the seemingly endless acres of pines.  The sun was starting to lower in the sky, casting beautiful shadows over the landscape.  After about a mile and a quarter, I turned around to head home.  I knew that a longer adventure would leave me in pain for longer than the weekend.  Just two miles and change was my final total, but it was enough.  The light, the smells, the breeze.  I missed it all.

 

I am fortunate that I was able to get in my short walk, because a few days later after my appointment with my orthopedic, I was told to teach, go home, and do nothing.  Well, I was told to 'limit my weight bearing activities,' to which I responded "which would be?"  I'm honestly doing nothing and it's going to drive me crazy. 

Surgery causes many more problems then it would help, so I must continue to wait.  I've been waiting for six months, but my body needs more time.  I will start physical therapy in a little over a week, although I do not know what I will be able to accomplish.  All I know is that it likely will not be as exhausting and fulfilling as a few good LT (lactate threshold) miles on the asphalt or a solid twelve miles in the woods. 

Soon.  Hopefully.  I know I will be able to run again, I just pray that that day is not over a year away.  North Florida is stunning, and I can't wait to get back out there.

New Beginnings

I know that I have been away for a long, long time.  I am still here, although also still injured.  Hopefully I'm getting over it, but I am not yet running regularly. 

There have, however, been significant changes in my life.  I am now the art teacher at an elementary school in a north central Florida town.  I live nearby in a quite little area with good open spaces that make for beautiful driving, and beautiful running soon.  I love where I am living.  I can see the sky and the stars in the black sky.  The land rolls, and the fog settles by the lakes in the early morning.  Things like that make me happy.

There are parks nearby, including state parks and also the Osceola National Forest.  I have hundreds of thousands of acres to explore, but right now I am waiting.

I know it will be wonderful and worth the wait.