I came back to Philly last night for thanksgiving, after relocating to Dallas in August.
This morning I felt the compelling urge to run to the Schuylkill river trail.
I was worried about the fatigue from traveling, but my body was excited, like a kid set loose in a playground.
I was hit with loads of nostalgic senses, memories and images flooded my head. Language seems pale in describing the bright, colorful, pounding excitement of running by the river again.
A sunny, brisk early winter Philly morning induced certain neurochemical molecules circulating my brain that felt like magic.
In the spirit of the holiday, I remembered how grateful I am to the Schuylkill river.
The river and trail have taught me so much, about running, about thinking, about reconnecting with my body, about how to live.
I came back to the river a bit older and more seasoned, and hopefully stronger, kinder, and with more wisdom.
I thought of a quote from T.S. Eliot:
T.S. Eliot
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
Through the unknown, unremembered gate
And another from Kevin Kelly:
Kevin Kelly
That thing that made you weird as a kid
could make you great as an adult
—if you don’t lose it.
I hope running on that trail will always feel like a kid coming home.
(It’s hard to convey the level of happiness I felt as I took this picture.)