Yeah, I’m still kicking. Work is in the midst of a spring fury, and fire academy is in full swing (or in firespeak, 'fully involved'). The weather has been idyllic, and the long days beg for more grandiose impressions in this ball of clay I call our property. Oh, and there’s this little kid named unGuy pushing his truck up and down the cobbly paths I’ve created. Did I mention that I’m a trailrunner? These days my runs are few and far between, but stuffed with enjoyment and void of injury, forging yet a deeper appreciation for time I once took for granted. With a few exceptions, my racing calendar is a blank slate. Instead of jumping into the old standbys year after year, the idea of exploring new terrain, with no premise of what lies around the bend, holds a fair sense of wonderment. In place of mileage, pace times, and placement are music, vistas, and running to run another day. Only a select few are able to combine these successfully. A common question offered to runners is ‘Why do you run ?’, and I’m not sure if I’ve ever heard the same answer twice. When asked, I’m also likely to give an indefinite response, and I assume it’s because the nature of my love for running ebbs and flows with my current state of mind. When running becomes a chore, the culprit is usually some other aspect of my life that has gone amiss. But there are times when I’m traveling some unfamiliar terrain and everything appears to be in sync. If only I could eke out a few more minutes in my day so this feeling would linger for just a little while longer.