My first few trail runs did not bring much joy. I was 13, lazy, overweight, and in poor physical shape. Due to my father’s Navy career, I had attended 13 schools by the time I finished the 7th grade and had not been involved with team sports or regular physical training of any type. At this point my father became a teacher, we moved to Atlanta, and my new school required each boy to work out with an athletic team after school every day. This was a major jolt to my lazy lifestyle, and I didn’t like it.
During the fall I tried football, which was a total disaster from my perspective, and even more so from the view of my coaches. Before choosing a sport for the next quarter, I asked several of the other lazy kids for their choices and was surprised to hear that many had chosen Winter Cross Country Conditioning. The consensus among the slackers was that the coach was the most lenient in the school. “Tell him you are running on the trails, and you only have to jog 200 yards to the woods and hide out.”
I did just that for two days. On the third day, an older athlete I liked came over to me and said, Galloway, you‘re running with us today. I quickly came up with my strategy: As we entered the woods, I planned to grab my hamstring, claiming a muscle pull. But the jokes started right away, and I kept going to hear the punch line. As we entered the trail system, they were exchanging gossip about the teachers—and I wanted to hear all of it. I didn’t last long the first day, struggled to adjust to the surface, and walked most of the way back to the school.
The primitive satisfaction of running trails combined with honest friendships and social fun kept me coming back, day after day—but it was hard work. The biggest surprise was how good I felt after a run. The after-run attitude boost was better than I had experienced after any activity during my young life.
There was also something special about the trail experience. Every step was a challenge at first, and I suffered my share of ankle turns and stumbles. With the support of the group, I experienced a unique sense of empowerment from overcoming each challenge.
Week after week I felt my body adapt and improve. The stumbles and aches became fewer and less painful. I began to sense that my feet were making intuitive adjustments to new terrain. I was becoming a trail running animal, and I liked it.
My spirit is energized after every run—but trail running does it better. Touching the earth in a natural environment engages parts of the mind-body network that are not activated on other runs. I felt energized by every trail run during my first few weeks and looked forward to the next one.
The most wonderful aspect of being on the trails after school was the special sense of freedom that can be encountered only on a trail run. When running down the trail, stress melted away: the demanding academic program, conflicts with fellow students, pressure from teachers and parents. As I moved along through the forest and along the creek, I was the king of the trail.
While the causes of stress in my life are different over 50 years later, I enter the same type of enhanced mental restoration today. I love trails!