Which way should we go?
I wasn’t really worried, just sort of tired of crawling over downed trees and getting scraped by the wild raspberry bushes. It was still early morning with the sun low on the eastern horizon making it easy to know ultimately which direction we needed to go in.
We’d started on the minor trail about a half an hour earlier. Our objective was to assess how much damage the tornado had done to the trees and trail. I was still thinking I’d get a run in around the lake after we made it through the tornado ravaged trail.
Another 15 minutes later, we had no idea how to get back to the trail. I searched in one direction while my husband went in the other direction. Neither one of us getting out of sight of the other. In the end, we only traversed about a tenth of the trail and found ourselves back where we started from trying to circle around the piles of downed trees. Being back on the main trail took away any ambition to assess further. That trail is closed, possibly forever.
At that point, I was thinking I’d gotten a pretty good workout climbing and balancing on branches and bouncing trunks. I wanted to run some but a trip around the lake was far from an option.
Which way to go now?
I’d had enough of wooded trails for the day. Although I would expose my barefooted self to plenty by running through the camp, it was all I wanted to do. I started up the boardwalk in my bare feet and smiled at the freedom to move unrestricted again.
That night, the camp boss, Andy, family friend and hubby’s boss (although hubs is mostly a volunteer), was the only one to notice/ask.
Do you always run barefoot?
Yes. I do.
Wow. I couldn’t do that.
My brother-in-law quipped in with, “I couldn’t run with shoes on!”
You know, I’ve never thought I couldn’t run. I’ve never thought I couldn’t run barefoot. Maybe that’s why I can because I think I can.
Hundreds of trees destroyed in a tornado, 1 humid barefoot run on a boardwalk, sand, gravel, and pavement, 1 short barefoot conversation, and 1 person who has found her way.