Today I Ran Outside
Today I opened the windows. The stale air inside our home disappeared and clean air renewed the empty spaces in the house. The air purifier didn’t even flinch while our new guest filled our home. I turned it off.
Today I fasted. The air was pristine and I craved the outdoors. Not knowing how long it would last, I filled a water bottle, grabbed my dog’s leash, and rescued my trail running shoes from the closet. They hadn’t seen the sun or felt the ground in weeks. There was no time for breakfast, there was only time to head to the hills and enjoy this temporary moment. Naked, unfiltered breaths without fear.
Today I wore a buff. Even though we have a respite from the toxic air that extends for hundreds of miles all the way up to Canada and across to the East Coast, there is no respite from the invisible virus. I left the smoke mask hanging on the wall but brought along my COVID mask in case running at a safe distance from others was not possible.
Today I felt the uneven, soft ground under my feet. How I missed these trails! The exposed roots, the uphills and downhills, the big rocks, the little pebbles, the soft pine needles cushioning my steps.
Today I looked up. I made it a point to look up and take in the incredible non-pixelated beauty all around me. Golden grass dried by the summer heat, moss and lichen adorning tree trunks and branches, berries growing on California Bay trees, tiny birds perched on dried-out shrubs, distant clumps of trees grayed out by the fog.
Today I breathed through my nose. I rely on large gulps of air I inhale with my mouth to fill my belly and power my body. I caught a whiff of the fresh, grassy, woody scent of a pine tree. Nature’s delight. I wanted more. I inhaled through my nose as much as I could.
Today I smelled nature. With my nose as a guide, I explored an invisible universe of intense and delightful aromas. Each section along the trail was demarcated by its own unique scent. The refreshing eucalyptus followed the damp earth. Sweet bay leaves preceded anise-scented shrubs.
Today I foraged. The steeper uphills gifted me with a slower pace and I plucked a few young bay leaves from the trees along the trail. I placed them in my pocket. In a few days they will dry and add small piece of our local wilderness to my next batch of vegetable stock or pot of beans.
Today I saw the air. Along the ridgeline, I could see the minuscule fog droplets moving east, and witnessed the intricate dance between wind and water. I thanked the winds for gifting us this moment.
Today I meditated. Thoughts came and went and instead of fighting them, I let them go like a passing cloud. In those moments of mental stillness, I was here. I was present in the everything of nothingness.
Today I absorbed sunlight. I could feel my skin waking up to harness the energy from the sun so my body can convert that sunshine to the vitamins it lacks.
Today I stopped dead in my tracks. Descending from the ridge, for the first time in what feels like months, I saw the entire Bay in front of me. Berkeley, Oakland, San Francisco, the Golden Gate Bridge, Marin. The light filtered through the clouds and fog and landed softly on the land, highlighting the texture of the glass and concrete buildings clustered within the 47 square miles of the City and County of San Francisco.
Today I wept. The clear view of the Bay took my breath away. Unable to move a muscle, I stood under a large oak covered in old man’s beard. I stared. I remembered to breathe. The lichen on the oak collected the fog and transformed it to tree rain. I looked up and saw dozens of water drops falling on me. All around me. Quenching the thirsty earth. I wept with the tree. Tears of joy ran down my face and onto the ground underneath me.
Today I pushed it. I was out of breath. My muscles ached. I longed for that pain. I did not want to stop, I wanted this feeling to last forever.
Today I smiled through my covered face. I wished strangers and fellow trail travelers a good day.
Today I existed on cloud nine.
Today I ran outside.
