The alarm rudely went off at 5:30 a.m.. I battled with myself to wake up and barely got out of bed. I’m thankful I did — Little did I know, today would be one of the most beautiful runs I’ve ever run. It all began with this:
At mile one, I was about to leave my neighborhood. The rising sun had painted the sky with an amazing range of colors. The calm water tickled the land. My heart rate was starting to rise due to the humidity. Or because of the breathtaking sight before me.
I emerged from the woods (after running on a crude footpath. At mile 2, I cross the Natchez Trace and watched as the sun battled to overtake the low clouds on the Ross Barnett Reservoir. A photographer had a tripod set up, looking to capture the sun’s dramatic entrance.
The sun did not disappoint. After surviving cancer, I vowed to catch as many of these as I could. It means I have been given a gift. The gift of another day.
The humidity was thick as syrup. As the air cooled, fog began to roll in. This is at mile six — about an hour into the run. My socks were soaked by this point. You may think it is gross but trust me, it was worse for me!
At mile 6.77, the transmission lines and towers looked like Japanese robots from the 60′s. The fog began to thicken like pudding.
The Ridgeland Multipurpose Trail parallels the Natchez Trace and offers a scenic place to bike and run. Here the fog is starting to creep across the Trace like a cat after its prey. I had about three and a half miles left to run at this point.
A small neighborhood lake usually makes for a peaceful place to reflect on the day. This morning, it was shrouded in a blanket of gray. This is at mile 8. I wrote a short story about this lake called The Prayer Dock.
At mile 8.77, I stopped on a small dock in the Simmons Arboretum. This is looking toward the Natchez Trace. A flock of geese headed noisily toward the Reservoir. This view never gets old.
Ten miles and done! My feet were tired and my shoes were soaked. I just sat on my front porch and allowed my heart rate to beat back down to normal. My Brooks Beast running shoes probably weighed a half-ton each — but I felt satisfied. I had just seen some of the most amazing sights in less than two hours.