A year ago...

I was in Boston. 

Today I followed friends and watched as Ryan Hall and Kara Goucher each finished 3rd - the strongest American finishes in recent years.  

My running is in such a different place than it was.  I don't worry as much about heart rate, time, pace or distance covered and I think more about the quality of each run.  I'm pretty sure I have more road marathons in me, but right now the call of the trail is so much stronger.  The feel under my feet is soft, the terrain is always varied and the scenery is almost always stunning.  

My brother took me for a 10 mile trail run on Manassas Battlefield (http://www.nps.gov/mana/) on Saturday.  I'd spent most of Friday in transit and a little over stressed (about things like weather over which I have no control).  So maybe I wasn't at my best for Saturday mornings run, but I'd been hearing about the Battlefield runs and I needed to do 10 or so miles, so it seemed perfect.  

And in many ways it was.  The temperature was brisk at the 7:30 start, but ultimately I was happy to be running for the first time this season in shorts and short sleeves.  The Battlefield was green and muddy in places.  We traipsed through fields of bluebells and the forest, while still mostly brown, had a sprinkling of Red Buds in full bloom.  

How was the actual run?  A lot tougher than I anticipated.  I struggled to keep up with my brother and the kind guy who slowed up a bit to make sure we knew the 10 mile route - was my brothers first time for the full 10.  I worried for a bit that I was slowing him/them down, and then I reminded myself that runners do what they want.  If he'd wanted to run harder and faster, he wouldn't have offered to hang back and show us the route.  And for the first time in quite a few years I couldn't keep up with my brother.  It was humbling and maybe a little heartbreaking.  Why should it matter?  Good question.  

And on Sunday, I woke up sore.  My quads had something to say about those rolling hills we ran on the Battlefield.  But I felt good; felt like I'd earned a day off. 

I've thought a lot this week about that run and what it means for me.  I'm focusing on the trails and not worrying so much about the speed, which means it'll be a long time until I see Boston again.  Not that I need to or want to.  I couldn't replicate the journey that got me there (nor would I chose to) and I certainly couldn't replicate the experience I had in Boston last April.  It was monumental for me - a letting go of sorts.  I had fun in Boston - I ran for the experience of running Boston.  I high-fived people and I listened to the pounding of thousands of feet on the street and I stopped to hug friends and then I turned to the trails and that's where I'll be for awhile - at whatever speed the day allows.