Well, it finally happened. A small miracle occurred in the woods of the west part of Anchorage.
Yeah, those woods.
For we ran (and brace yourself, now) on the Kincaid Park trails and saw no (no!) moose.
I didn’t blog much this past summer so you’re probably not aware of the frequently of moose sightings out on the park’s trails.
It was kind of ridiculous. I saw them every. single. run. And I had to change course almost every. single. run.
And when you’re obsessive about getting your miles in, this can kind of suck. I came across moose on uphills and downhills, rounding curves and cruising through large mud puddles. I even, twice, came upon them lying in the middle of the trail. Yep, napping right there in the trail and blocking it from use (I’ll bet they snicker about this too. I’ll bet they laugh their asses off when they see us traipsing through the brush and getting all scratched up in order to go around them).
So when we ran yesterday and came across no moose (not even moose poop!) it was a relief that we didn’t have to slow down or veer off on a side trail or bushwhack through devil’s club or, worse yet cow parsnip. Yet, I kind of missed seeing those ridiculous creatures with their ridiculous noses and knobby-kneed gaits.
Although moose-less, it was a glorious run, a medium-paced run up and down hills and crunching through autumn leaves, the dog charging ahead while sunbeams pushed through the birch branches.
What a gift, this running, no?
P.S. This is Seriously’s iconic pose. Each time I snap a picture, she stands this way. I swear, she intentionally poses, as if she believes this to be her best angle.