Mystery Flower

Does anyone recognize this type of flower?  I saw it on my run yesterday along a rocky path through a nearly dry cypress strand.  It was beautiful and bizarre.  Sorry about the picture being so blurry. I didn't realize how bad it was until I got home.


Is it a white spider lily?

Commencement

I am now a college graduate.

As my college's president expressed during his opening speech at the ceremony, commencement  is both an end and a beginning.  Just as the seasons shift, this is a natural change in my life.  I knew of its occurrence months, years, in advance and did what I could to prepare for it, although I could never have predicted the precise outcome.  I could never have dreamed of such wonderful years and people to spend them with, and I'm still unsure of how I feel about the change.  What I am sure of, however, is that I will be studying at the University of Florida for graduate school.  I will also search for teaching positions in hopes of beginning my career. 

This marks the end to my running on a competitive team as much as it marks the end of my undergraduate education.  Despite these endings, I will continue to run and compete and I will continue my education, but simply in other locations.  A new location to call home also means new old lands to explore, learn, and appreciate, something I am exceedingly excited to do. 

To end my undergraduate schooling and running, I logged one last long solo run in Guana River WMA.  The paths were familiar, and I traversed many of my favorites.  The observation tower at mile 2.5, the still-dry prairie trails, down to the sticky dark mud at the water's edge.  As I returned to the parking lot, I managed  to make a few new discoveries.  Eleven young alligators waited, heads resting on the water's dark glassy surface, for my exit.  Others looked on from the banks, as if wanting to say goodbye.

I will return, and I know these runs, this point in my life, will not be the same, but the thrill of the new is pulling me forward.

Spring

It is spring break in the local public school district, which means it is time off of work for me!  My college had its spring break a few weeks back, but since I am interning in the public school system, I now follow their schedule.  I would have taken this break to log some serious miles at parks along this side of the state, but because it is time to taper for  track, I have been resting more than I have been running.  My final collegiate race is this weekend. 

Today, I made it out to Anastasia State Park in St. Augustine.  With an admission price of just four dollars, the state park makes for a great little vacation.  Even though I live in Florida, I rarely find time to go to the beach, but I was determined to do so over my spring break.  Actually, I've been to the beach a few times already this week.  In a few months, I will be moving inland, away from the salty coastal breezes, to attend the University of Florida for graduate school.   I will miss the runs that I have completed along this beach and nearly around the entire peninsula, known as Conch Island.  This trip was just for relaxing, however, so I grabbed my book of short stories by Marjorie, read tales of young women, cockfights, and relationships, and soaked in the sun's rays. 

This stretch of the beach in the state park is much more peaceful that part past the peer, just a few hundred meters south.  There are no hotels, ice cream shops, or beach towels placed so close together that the edges touch.  It's a pleasant escape.  The quiet gave me time to close my eyes and think about the upcoming race and graduation, but also my next possible big studio project.  I plan to print a copy of Cross Creek, create a cover, bind the book, and illustrate the text with my line drawings screen printed on the pages.  One of my good friends recently took Bookmaking, a studio course at my school, and I have been itching to make this book for a while now.  I added a few more sketches to my collection today.



Those were certainly the best four dollars that I have spent in a while.



 

 

Good Mornings

All of them were good mornings.  How could they not?  The Guana River Wildlife Management Area is one of my favorite parks to run in on the east coast of the state.  Vast natural spaces are difficult to find in the populated area where I live most of the year.  The land in the WMA is diverse, open, and breathtaking, and I treasure my mornings there. 

 

Alone on the trails in bitter temperatures and seemingly endless land to explore is an ideal situation.  I live for these mornings.  It was twenty seven degrees and a brutal wind raced atop the scrub, leaving my cheeks pink and chaffed.   The sky was a brilliant clear blue as only a January Florida sky can be.  Dressed in full length tights, for the very first time in my state, a long sleeve top, and warm black gloves, I set forth.  Despite the many times that I have traveled parts of this park, this was the first time that I took to the paths alone.  I did not have a time limit to return to the college van waiting in the parking lot or a group of runners by my side, fearful of getting lost.  I had freedom on the trails, and I took full advantage of it.  It was a good morning. 

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As the steady rain fell, I made my way to the open paths, following the trails of shallow water.  Winter means my chance to explore closer to these low waters, designated as 'Seasonably Wet' trails on the park map.  I meandered the open plain.  The path and the water were almost indistinguishable, and I could only plan a few steps ahead.  The earth still wet, despite the season, but that  has never bothered me.  I'm not one to try and run trails and stay clean.  The gritty mud splashed up to my thighs and stained my new white trainers.  It was a good morning. 

____________________

I arrived for my ritual weekend run of thirteen miles in Guana River WMA.  Today, I wanted to travel north as far as I could with my prescribed mileage.  My real goal was to find the Lake Ponte Vedra observation tower, which required a good eight miles of new trails.  I was optimistic.  I've never gotten lost, yet.  Not only did I discover the observation tower, I also found perhaps my favorite stretch of trails in the park located near Graveyard path.  Along the way, I stumbled upon numerous lakes and a beautiful flock of fifteen to twenty roseate spoonbills huddled in the center.  Even though I planned the majority of my route, it was the little surprises made it most memorable.  I could never anticipate anything that wonderful.  I was a good morning.

____________________

I arrived at Guana River WMA for my fourth weekend in a row, this time with the college van full of members of the men's team.  I assumed I would be running by myself, again, but I didn't mind.  There is always plenty to explore.  When we began, the men's pace was slow and I kept up with the group of guys fairly easily.  They weren't going to make it a hard run, so I stuck with them.

We made our way out to the Capo observation tower like usual, and then one of the guys announced he wanted to "get lost in that direction."  Pointing northeast, he invited us to join.  I am all for getting lost and proposed sharing a few of my new discoveries in that area.  Naturally, they were up for the adventure, so we made our way down the narrow meandering paths along the pines and down to the prairie.  Even though the other seniors had been exploring the WMA for nearly four years, they were shocked by this new world of partially submerged paths.
We had fun splashing through the sticky dark mud.  The sun was shining in the clear sky after a long night of hard wind and rain.  It was beautiful, and we constantly reminded each other as the phrase slipped out of our mouths again and again.  As we ran on the soft footing, we told stories, made inappropriate references, and had a good time like teammates do.  Wading birds looked on, clearly puzzled at this group of energetic twenty-somethings frolicking though their usually quiet home. 

After reaching higher ground, the group divided a bit, others wanting to take different paths at different paces.  I understood.  The land often pulls me places, too.  The core group remained, however, as we took lesser known paths and discovered new loops together.

We made our way back to the park entrance as the last few minutes of our run time were ticking away.  Taking more of the low paths discovered on my last run, and making one of our own near the Big Savannah Pond, much dryer in the winter months but still good for a bit of splashing, we returned to the parking lot. Sharing my own discoveries with my adventuresome team and making ones of our own will always be a memory of mine.  It was a morning that affirmed my love for this sport, the land, and these people.  Covered in dirt and sweat, little streams of dried mud still stuck to our legs, we all understood that this was a great morning. 



Stronger

Feb. 2012- Guana River Wildlife Management Area

In the past few months, I have written about beginning to feel like myself again post-injury.  The act of running, no matter what the distance, has helped me feel like my old self, however, something was still missing.  Running and running like myself are two different things.

After cross country season ended in November, I decided to continue running, only dropping my weekly mileage in order to give my legs a break.  In no way was I ready to voluntarily take two weeks off after so recently having a forced nine months off.

It was the right decision.

In the past month, I have finally started to run like myself.  I am able to run tall and strong, hit even splits, and recover more quickly from workouts and during intervals.  My pace has dropped significantly since the season ended.  During cross country season last year, my workouts were all over the place.  I could never predict how I would feel, and that frustrated me beyond belief. 

After an entire summer and cross country season of struggling with running, it seems that I finally overcome the months of near inactivity.  I am not one to bounce back into shape because I am not a naturally athletic person.  I will be the first to admit that I have to work at running in order to compete decently in races.  I'm now stronger, physically and most certainly mentally.  Actually, I have started to think of the injury as a blessing in disguise because it forced me to reevaluate what I do and why I put myself through it.  Persistence, and not to mention a coach with incredible knowledge and similar determination, has brought me this far.  I love the sport, the people, and the feeling, and I'm not going anywhere.

Marjorie's Manuscripts

Occasionally I scroll through the articles on the St. Pete Times (now Tampa Bay Times) website to catch up on the events at home.  Today, I stumbled upon the newest Jeff Klinkenberg article:  "UF archivist preserves priceless manuscripts of Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings and others".  Enjoy!

Alumni Weekend Running

Last weekend was a cross country alumni weekend of sorts.  Many runners, past and present, competed in a local 5k, racing on either the current runners team or the alumni team.  Our scoring was cross country style, naturally.  The remainder of the weekend was spent eating, eating, reminiscing, and running, since, well, we are cross country runners.

On Sunday, the team visited the Mala Compra Trails (I've also heard it called HOBOS Trails) which was designed as a mountain bike trail.  I am not much of a biker, and I really have no idea how many trails like this exist in Florida, but I can say that I have never seen anything like it.  The trails twist and turn, rise and fall suddenly and constantly for the five and a half mile wooded loop. 

A few miles in, I got separated from the others since it was mostly the men's team.  I ended up exploring most of the trails alone.  Somehow I ran my first loop in about thirty minutes, so I clearly took a wrong turn somewhere.  It was difficult to get my bearings because of all of the little twists and turns, but on my second loop I eventually ended up on the other side of the park by a road and another entrance where a large map was posted.  Once I took a look at the image, it all made sense.  I hopped on the large and generally straight hiking trail and made my way back to the start. 

The run ended up being around 10. 5 miles, which was a little short, but my legs and hips certainly felt it.  It was a unique, fun, and challenging run.  I recommend going with a few people who are around your speed so that you can stick together and enjoy the crazy course.  It's great for distances from 5-8 miles, but a bit repetitive for much more than that.  Even though it was relatively hot outside, the trail stayed cool because it is completely shaded by oaks.  I can imagine that it would be very nice in the summer, as well.

Here is a video of someone biking the trail.  You can get an idea of how crazy parts of it are.

At the end of the weekend, it was sad to see everyone go.  Even though I had just met these people,  I felt like I knew them well.  We have many, many shared experiences, from running the same old routes, to trying Celebrex for hip pain, and ultimately knowing what it is like to be part of something so unique.  Only these few people know what it is like to wake up every day and be a member of this cross country team.  I am very excited to be racing with them next year and keeping in touch until then.