After a long 6 weeks of no running since Hell's Hills, I got in a couple of great runs last weekend. They weren't great in terms of distance (not very long), pace (pretty slow), or surface (paved). They were great in that they reminded me that I enjoy running! We were camping at Lake Whitney State Park with a bunch of families from church. Each night, after the rest of the gang settled down, I took of for a run around the park.
There was no moon out, the skies were clear, and I enjoyed just a touch of a breeze. A few fellow campers were out and about, but for the most part, I had the road to myself. While I mostly ran in the light of the bright stars of the Texas sky, I did wear a headlamp for safety; I turned it on a couple of times when a car was coming. It also came in handy when I heard the occasional scurrying sound. At one point, I thought I saw a shape moving on the road. I turned on the headlamp to see a skunk waddling quickly away, thankfully not leaving a trail of stink behind him. A few minutes later, I did not see a shape on the road and nearly stepped on an armadillo. I'm not sure who was more startled. We frantically ran circles around each other for a couple of seconds before he scampered away into the underbrush.
On night two at dinner, I asked a friend if he wanted to come run with me, assuring him that it would be pretty short and definitely slow. No, he said, this is my weekend to relax. That's when it struck me: what better way to relax than a quiet, solitary run under the stars?