Sometimes I get waylaid in the middle of a run, a risk of running trails through spectacular terrain. In the outback, I talk to the plants, animals and mountains, mostly thanking them for existing. I now realize that such conscious gratitude does make a difference. If hard traverses through nature always required the grimace of ambition, there would be no point in it for me.
So a microadventure through remote and extremely rugged Hells Canyon Wilderness: Half trail run, half off-trail scramble, the day after a rare Sonoran desert rain. I could have completed my planned 15-mile loop, but half way through I came upon something ephemeral and soul-satisfying.
An accomplished ultra runner once said that the day she started keeping a log was the last day she would ever run. Amen. This is why I run: