I have just come home from running and I have a story to tell.





But first, a few words of wisdom gleaned on this Monday morning:

1. Never wear sunglasses to go running in the forest when the day is only half-sunny.

2. Never wear running shoes in a rocky forest when it's been raining for weeks.

3. Never be afraid of the bogeyman when you can be afraid of cows.

4. Never run alone in street shoes in a wet and rocky forest full of cows with your sunglasses on.

I had just posted the quaint picture of cows off my balcony when I left the house for a run. I asked myself... the usual route, or a new one ? (the usual route being the safer of the two.)

A rather impulsive person, I decided on the new one... and off I went to do the parcours vita - running. Well, first of all the climb to the top of the hill is steep, so halfway up I had to slow to a nordic walk lest my lungs give out. As I was ascending, I recalled my neighbor's warning, "If you go running in the forest, Allison, leave a note on the table saying where you've gone so we can find you if you get hurt."

Hmmm, not a chance.

Naturally, walking through a dark forest (sunglasses to blame) creeped me out and I began looking around to see if someone were following me. But as I crested the hill and emerged from the forest I spied the movie set for the Sound of Music and was immediately relieved!

The hills are alive! But with the sound of cow bells?

A warning sign guarded entry to the field... "Suckling cows protect their young. Please keep your distance."

My knees went weak. I could either retrace my steps through the forest and risk encountering a bogeyman, or I could brave the mother cows and risk getting gorged. A quandary for this fertile imagination. There was a time, you see, when I had helped out at a farm. It was seventeen years ago, and my job had been to bring in the cows. I was once "attacked", though it came to naught. Still... I am leery of them to this day.

I opted for the fields, trying my best to think of Do Re Mi and the children who ran fearlessly through dales such as these with guitar in hand, singing. I made it over the hill, thanking God for deliverance, and began to enter the forest again. More bells. In the forest? Seriously? This time I was downright scared. You can't see cows in the forest; they blend in! Hurrying down the hill, I forgot to look out for slippery rocks, and felt my feet slide out from under me.

Crash.

My thigh and arm hit the hard forest floor and I lay there thinking of my neighbor, thinking of the cows, thinking... "I should have taken the usual route!" Yes, I realized at the time that I was freaking myself out.

Well... obviously I managed to pull myself together (or I wouldn't be alive now writing this post) and run home.

I thought you might like to know that among my fanciful and imaginative posts is the hard reality faced by a dreamer in distress. Cheers!