Past Lives

My family’s lineage was recently traced back to the 1100s (the English keep immaculate records). It was discovered that we were from a small Viking village in Dent, England. Dent is now a protected forest land and all of this makes a lot of sense to me.

Sometimes, when I’m on a particularly fun trail or having a hard go of it, I imagine I am a Viking warrior (minus all that raping and pillaging stuff), honoring nature by feeling the energy it offers me so that I can charge on. It always gives me a bit more pep in my step. Undoubtedly, my mind immediately thinks that this, uh, likely violent lineage may be why I became a vegetarian when I was 10 years old and have stuck with it the past 24 (!) years. I must have known I had some things to atone for.

The Viking thing helped me on my 31-miler a few weeks ago when I had to skip through this pond of sorts. This just in: NE is pretty damp this time of year.

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