T’was Merry Running on Christmas



I ran away to Georgia for the Christmas break and was given the gift of Christmas in July, for running anyway. While I chose to take the positive out of that – you guys know how much of a summer girl I am – there is no denying the extreme and severe weather events that have been flooding different parts of the Midwest and south. I can only be thankful for what I deemed a blessing where I was while keeping in prayer those who have been the victims of stormy weather elsewhere.

For my part, I was able to sweat up a storm and put some mileage under these running shoes; this fit in perfectly with the laid-back southern life of those peachy folks in Georgia. While some would argue for it being humid, wet and overcast, I felt that given everything happening elsewhere, we were in a pretty good place even to taking it as a gift with a bow of sunshine.

In Georgia, Christmas is that time we come together (actually Christmas Eve) with family and friends, we go to church and celebrate Jesus, we share eats and drinks and exchange gifts at Christmas parties then we come home, open family gifts ( yay..there was some running stuff in there) too much hilarity and goofiness, followed by games such as taboo, headband etc until the wee hours of the morning, and if we felt awake enough, which we did, we put on a movie – this year mission impossible: rogue nation won out – and we ended up with it watching us at about 6am. Then it was off to serve Christmas breakfast down at the local mission until 10am and then back home to breakfast and clean-up and finally..sleep around 2pm. I awoke at 6pm to Christmas dinner, after which it was – let the binge begin – Downton Abbey Season 1 until it ended or I passed out, whichever happened first.

IMAG0006~2_1The morning after is Running time. Though there was no over-eating for me, I judiciously followed my after-Christmas-Day-tradition. It was up and running about 9am for a couple of hours at one of my favorite running spots. At Brookfield Park, I revelled in the sounds of nature and the cool breeze and kiss of sunshine. I felt like nature responded to my deep sense of appreciation as the sky appeared bluer, the birds sang merrier, the rustle of the leaves were louder and the fall colors (still evident) were brighter, even the sun was hotter and that was ok..it’s Georgia’s  merry christmas and I love running it. I’m pretty sure the local folks wonder at my over-enthusiasm but I always feel right at home as there are other like-minded runners out – enthusiasm a bit tapered maybe – but we rock running all the same and that’s all that matters.

Most times I’m lucky to get a quickie of a run in the next day – this time I didn’t – but the Falcons won Sunday Football, big deal in these parts – then it was back into travel gear and I headed back to the big A where I was greeted by a not-so-very-welcome chill. From 70 to 40 in a matter of states; this is New York.

All Peaches and Running Dreams


I love running in Georgia. Particularly, I delight in the fresh and pristine air surrounding the Savannah Rapids River in Augusta, and the cacophony of sounds that enfold me as I make my way along the scenic trails.  Because I consider myself a nature lover, I relish the times I can get away from city life and get in tuned with my wild side.  There’s nothing more inspiring than being lost to the world of city lights, blaring traffic and the constant chatter of well-meaning or not, people.  It is here that running takes on a whole new meaning; where competition, pace and races take a back seat to enjoyment, beauty and appreciation.


It seems everything and everyone conspire to offer the perfect conditions -it’s hardly winter here today- for lacing up and heading out.  And because it’s so designed, I can hardly not take a camera along as picturesque scenes are sure to greet me.  I picture the willow trees, its branches swaying gently in the breeze as the gurgling sound of water gushes by and the birds singing sweetly as they tag along on this self-defining run that will unearth more than I can imagine and unload more than mere calories.


I may return with some Spanish moss in my hand and some stunning shots on my camera, but what I hold in my heart and my head, words cannot express, nor can I really articulate what it means to this city girl who’s really country at heart.

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