I run because...

Although I call myself a triathlete, running is still my sport of choice. It's what I do to clear my mind, to feel healthy, strong and alive. In a race, I can't wait for the moment when I'm done with the stress of open water swims and the adrenaline of bike racing, I can drop all the equipment, all the worry, and just do what I do best. Nothing to get in my way, and nothing to think about but staying relaxed and keeping my feet moving fast. People have been running since they stood on two legs. It's primitive, it's free, and it's something I'm so glad to have discovered a passion for. Three runs over the holiday break reminded me why I do this sport, and I've been wanting to write about them ever since.

#1: Annapolis, MD. From my house, over the Naval Academy bridge, past my elementary school and down to Greenbury Point, a beautiful set of trails right by the Severn River that I need to explore more often. It was late afternoon, the sun hitting the leaves and water in that perfect way. I wanted to know where every trail led, and I ended up running for much longer than I had planned. Back over the bridge just as sunset was approaching, and home again with the ever-addicting mix of exhaustion and exhilaration.  

#2: St. George Island, FL. On a family vacation, staying at a beach house just behind the dunes. It was morning, and heavy fog made visibility impossible beyond about 10 ft. I ran down a road parallel to the beach for about 20 minutes, then turned toward the sand to head back. I ran home on the beach, right on the edge where the sand was still hard-packed from the waves. It was the most surreal run of my life. It was as if this stretch of silent beach, the seagulls and pelicans that occasionally flew by, and I were the only things left in the world. Unable to see even to where the beach houses began, I took a guess about 40 minutes in and headed up to the dunes, fortunately finding my street right away. It was perfect.

#3: St. George Island, FL. Another beach run, but this one completely different. It was about 4:30 in the afternoon, and I wanted to try my first barefoot beach run ever. It felt summer warm, so all I needed was a pair of shorts and a sports bra. This time I walked right out to the beach so I could do my entire run on the sand. With slow sitar music playing on my iPod, my bare feet splashing in the waves as they hit the shore, I just kept going. All I could think about was how much beauty was surrounding me. I  ran as the sun set, not wanting to stop even as I could feel blisters forming on my toes. When I was finally spent, I collapsed in the sand and just stared at they sky turning to dusk. After a final soak of my feet in the water, I hobbled back to the beach house, not realizing how long I'd actually been gone. My parents were ready to come searching for me — (sorry for the stress, mom and dad.)

And Boulder, while it doesn't have rivers or oceans, is beautiful in its own way. Here, I get to run through the mountains, watch the sun setting behind the Flatirons, catch a view of the whole city from up on Flagstaff. I run because for me, there's no better way to feel like a part of my surroundings and appreciate what the world has to offer. I hope I'll be able to run until I'm old, because few things make me more content.

A sampling of perfect beach-at-sunset run music:

Maharaj Pariksit

Give and take.

Caryn