These trails can heal.
In the past couple years I have transitioned from weekend warrior used-to-be high school track "star" to wanna-be ultra runner and sub 3-hour marathoner. The transformation has not been without its slings and arrows, and at times I've been forced to stash my shoes and ride out injuries. Fortunately its been nothing major, nothing that has sidelined me for more than a few weeks or a month at a time.
And when I'm on the mend, looking to migrate from a few slow miles back to real runs, I find myself in Tahoe. Maybe its just the air, the way the pine permeates the void, refreshing a tired soul and mending my aching muscles. It could be the sounds -- nothing but the leaves rustling, the occasional animal scurrying away from my approaching feet. Or maybe its the trails themselves. Gentle, needles dropped into a cushiony pad, then rocky and rugged they can kick your ass up and down.
Whatever it is though, these trails can heal.
I hit them Rim Trail behind our little house in Tahoe City, a quick six mile loop through Page Meadows. I'm yet to run these trails fully healthy. And maybe that's for the best, since given the chance I might not come back. The trail winds out from the meadows into the woods, up and up and out to Alpine Meadows. Then to Squaw and beyond.
I haven't gone that far. Yet.