Sometimes we don’t know the weight of a moment until it becomes a memory. Other times we are lucky enough to recognize these moments as they come to pass. This day was one of the lucky days.

Some moments are so peaceful that it is difficult to convert into words the encapsulating nature of experience. The complete and utter calm of the mind, not necessarily devoid of chatter but devoid of persistent chatter. For me, I reach this state when I run, but especially so on trails. This day was especially powerful, as I was with someone I love in an intrinsically stunning landscape, many miles away from civilization. The beauty of the snow-capped prominence reflected off the surface of the lake prompted a feeling of serenity and inner peace.

As I floated down the trail, snaking along the winding curves of the shore against the lake, hills and logs and boulders came and went. As obstacles in the path appeared, I dealt with them as they appeared. Each section of steep rocky trail was not a symbol of fear and difficulty, but merely represented a new section of the run. In examining them retroactively, I can see that for each sector of difficult trail a new challenge was posed, complete with excitement, exhilaration, mental concentration and technical difficulty. But to the runner, it didn’t represent any of these. It was just another section of trail. It merely was.

Thoughts floated in and out of my mind with ease; reaching a sort of meditative state, a rolling awareness of lucidity. Both good and bad thoughts arose and receded, but thoughts didn’t snowball as much. Instead of acting like a game of emotional chutes and ladders, thoughts more so felt like the logs, rocks, and hills that scattered the trail. Yes, they were a complicated sea of terrain, but to the runner, they simply were. They did not last long, as the mind wandered from thought to thought, free to go where it wanted, not where the chutes dictated. Thoughts were not coated with the same complex emotional residue that they usually were; the shitty things failed to pack their usual emotional sucker punch. They simply were things that were happening, but there were also other things happening to think about. Like all the good things in your life. Like the log in front of your head. Obstacles and scenery help ground the mind of the runner, continually bringing them back, when the mind strays, to the present in the form of a pleasant, transient, experiential reality: trail running.

I sit on a log on a beach by the lake in the middle of the woods. I am miles from my phone, miles from anyone at all. I am devoid of all possessions but shoes, clothes, and a watch. The only things that surround me are nature and the trail. A sense of bliss fills my body and my heart.

This day, I run by the lake and remember why I run at all.