Hill 27 revisited

  • Monday, May 21, 2012
  • 0

 I have a friend. 
It's his birthday this week
and he is turning 45, two years younger than me.
It is slowly dawning on me that I am no longer a boy, that
youth lies in my past. There are moments of exception when I manage
to roll away the stone and walk out of the narrowing tomb. These exceptional moments often occur when I run. On Sunday, Jerry and I revisit hill 27. We don't really need an excuse to run on the Downs but we give the run a shape and identity - to search for the lost key. So many times when I run I can see the metaphors for life. Returning to a childish, playful state is a search for the Holy Grail, lost youth. Being young may be lost to me now but I can find kaleidoscopic moments running and searching for things lost or never experienced when life still burns bright with hope and promise. Like life the hills get steeper but the joy of ascent remains, the views and the accomplishment regenerate the spirit at least. Appropriately, we don't find the car key. This is no disaster, they remain out there somewhere in the wilderness, hidden like the Holy Grail. It means that we have a reason to keep searching.

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