wash park

washington park, colorado

i used to drive myself 20 minutes in the wrong direction to run around wash park. in fact, in the months before i left, i did this quite frequently, often in the snow and iridescent light of many winter afternoons.

i have soundtracks and playlists full of music that specifically reminds me of afternoons spent running around washington park--music like the soundtrack from pride and prejudice, and yo-yo ma's exquisite, harmonious cello solos from the memoirs of a geisha soundtrack, and linkin park for the moments when i just needed loud, angry music to make sense of what i could never seem to piece together about leaving.

those moments spent running in that beautiful park were so precious to me, so full of silence and solitude and beauty and snow and quiet contemplation. it was perfect, a three mile loop with other runners, bikers, skaters, families, couples and dogs there to keep me company at a distance.

as i adopt a lifestyle that is more inclusive of running, i think of these moments often. i recall how it felt to run around that worn dirt path: remarkably free and alive. and i stew about how alone and uninviting it feels to run here. i miss being able to drive to wash park and run. to just run and run and run.

i have decided to share that i am working towards a new goal:

to run the athens marathon next november.

this will be no easy task, of course and encouragement is welcome.

and it makes me really reflect on the things that i miss. i miss many things lately, it seems... almost stiflingly so. as i reassure myself this is just a part of being away, of working through those humps on that darned curve, i think of washington park and how much the time i spent there helped me to get here.

some day, i plan to go back and run around wash park with yo-yo ma on hand to intoxicate my ears and mind and spirit.

for now, i'll settle for remote dirt trails spotted with horse poop, trash, tall weeds and the occasional roaming pig or barking dog. and, a little christmas music to sing to my ears.

eventually, i suspect the snow will come.