Turns out, my happy place isn’t just knitting anymore. Don’t get me wrong, I still love to binge watch shows and knit away, but after a while I just get twitchy. So a couple of years ago I returned to running, started cross fit and walking instead of driving when I could. Then a couple of mishaps happened and I discovered that knitting with an arm in a cast did not work very well. What the heck? One of my top coping mechanisms had just been pulled out from underneath my feet.
In February I came down with the crud. Not the regular head cold that last for a week and then you are done, but the kind that lingers for weeks. While it did a great thing for getting my knitting mojo back and getting caught up on my favourite TV shows, the aftermath has not been very pretty.
The reality was that I get quite out of sorts if the right quotient of exercise is not in my life. Preferably done outside. When I finally was able to breath well enough that I didn’t feel like I was sucking for air, my feet were back on the pavement, trudging through miles that will build my base level so that I will be prepared for a few trail marathons and ultra marathons that I plan on running this year. Yesterday kind of came to a head, where I couldn’t fathom hitting the pavement, and the hill and strength workout that was on my schedule wasn’t going to play nice with the strained leg muscle that was bothering me. So I told my coach “screw it, I’m going to Discovery Park. If not anything else, a nice walk will be better than nothing.”
So much better than nothing. Trails are my happy place. My place to reset and re-center myself. The run still sucked. But being outdoors in the woods? I’ll take the path less traveled any day.