Owls, Beaches, and the Trial of Miles

In Once a Runner, the book's protaganist refers to the Trial of Miles, a phrase he uses to basically described his personal history of running during his college career and how through it all no matter what crisis he faced, he ran. I am not currently going through a crisis, but I find myself looking more and more forward to the runs that I do each week as a way to refocus and meditate on what is going on in my crazy little life. Plus, sometimes like last weekend it serves as a nice little sojourn down memory lane. (It also helps that I am getting in killer mileage with 33 miles run last week in total.)

As I have a lot recently, I spent the weekend at my parents' places (old and new) in order to finish off the great family move that has featured them moving from their old house into a brand new shiny one. As such, I decided to vary from my planned long run, which was to be 16 miles this weekend to two shorter runs of around seven miles. This decision proved to be very sensible since this weekend featured some of the coldest of the season. (Once again, this is Popstar's fault.)

For the first run, I ran a loop that I have done since I was a wee little babe that brings me along the town's coast line through the mansion section and back home. It is relatively flat with only two real hills, but a great run nonetheless as I pass many of my old friends' houses and various places where I used to create problems for myself as a teenager. Saturday's version featured extremely cold temperatures, a bastard of a wind, and several aches and pains. Regardless it was nice opportunity no matter what the conditions to zone out and revisit this little run.

For the second run, I mapped a route through the woods near my old and new house to get to the state park nearby where my high school cross country team had its home course and where I spent many summers and winters either running the trails or cross country skiing when the weather cooperated. Also, this run brought me to my favorite part of the world, a little dock that juts out into the marsh in the state park where I feel most at peace. And yes, I am listening to John Denver right now.

The run went off as planned, and it was nice to run up the boardwalk through the pavilion, and into the woods. The best part of the entire run, however, occurred right at the outset while I was on the first trail near my house. As I was approaching a dense section of pines that creates a very dark section of trail, I saw out of the corner of my eye something flying out of no where. Now, I usually see birds and other various creatures, but the shear size of whatever the heck this thing was made me slow down and try to figure out where this thing went. Then as I saw a large gray head looking out from behind a tree craining its neck to get a good look at me, I realized this flying enigma was a good old fashioned owl, something I had never seen in the wild. (Actually after research at home, I saw a Grey Horned Owl, the second largest owl in the owl lineage and the largest of the eared owls.) And then, as soon as the owl realized that I was looking at him, he took off above me finally landing in a classic owl perch in the trees.

I thought about the significance of the owl during the remainder of my run and continued to think about it the remainder of the weekend and up until today. And while I still cannot figure out if it really means anything in terms of the effect the sighting may have on my life, it once again reaffirmed my need to get the hell out of the City someday and settle myself in an area where I can atleast hope to see another owl.