That's what I did tonight. After putting on a few (or ten) pounds since moving to one of the most foodie cities in the country, I decided it might be time to get outside and work up a sweat.
Garrett said he would join me on the run, so I knew we would end up pushing ourselves farther than I would ever push myself. I am so, so glad that we stretched our legs a little longer for we ended up at the Presidio, a beautiful park that served as an army post for 218 years.
Garrett asked if he could run off-path in the woods, and as soon as I nodded my head he took off like a bullet. With no company and no phone, I continued down the path on my own.
As I trusted my feet to do their job and carry me forward, I kept my eyes up to soak in views of the Golden Gate Bridge, children playing hide-and-seek, birds darting through the air, and the soft evening sunshine filtering down through leafy green trees.
And in that moment, with my non-runner feet running, stripped of all connection to anyone else, I was at peace.
The peace grew as the path became enclosed by an archway of trees and opened at an old wooden bridge. This was the end of the trail, and at it was a sign that told me I had just come down Lovers' Lane, the oldest path in the Presidio. It went on to say that soldiers once walked Lovers' Lane to meet with their sweethearts in the city. Upon reading the sign, my heart took flight. I had just delighted in the same trail that hundreds before me had used for the best thing in the world: love.
My happy heart and tired feet encouraged me to walk the path back to the entrance, so walk I did. And when I saw my husband waiting for me at the top of the hill by the front gates, I imagined what it must have felt like to be a soldier laying eyes on his sweetheart at the edge of Lovers' Lane.
|image from presidio.gov|