Last Saturday, my little town of Rocky Hill was hit with " a no-name-hurricane." Somewhere between the trees it cracked and uprooted to to the river it flooded, the running trails were blocked off with caution tape.
By Wednesday, the third day of delicious sunshine, there were a few of us out there making the most of the obstacle course that lay ahead of us. With mud-speckled calves, soggy sneakers, and a few tree hurdles, it made for a slightly more complicated run than usual.
Today, only one week later, I didn't see an obstacle course. This morning's sun revealed a path that looked restored; in the process of healing. It was the path I remember before the destruction; the one that had no end in sight and let me decide my journey and my pace.
I hope that today, I can embody the transformation of this trail, and echo it's strength.
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