"Midway upon the journey of our life
I found myself within a forest dark,
For the straightforward pathway had been lost."
-Dante, The Divine Comedy: Inferno, Canto I
I'm running up the sand dune. Well, not really running but crawling, it's too steep to run.
All day waiting on the beach, then a zodiac boat ride across the bay to the start point. It's some time after 9pm when we start. The sea, the beach, the sky, the dune are like a pastel drawing we're moving through. Pastel pinks, blues, mauve and pale yellow.
It has an 'other world' quality about it.
Night is falling in.
On top of the dune, head torch lights flicker on, like insane fire flies we head into the forest. Fairy lights strung out through the night.
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| I'm probably in this picture somewhere. Source: trails-endurance.com |
The forest at night. The stuff of nightmares and fairy tales. The primordial human fear of being alone in the forest at night. A trail of breadcrumbs is replaced with glow sticks to lead you out. After several hours your sense of direction is lost, it's hard to orientate, up and down look the same, the torchlight rebounds back and washes out the contours and gradient, it tells you nothing about the ground.
I didn't go into the the forest 'to live deliberately' or 'suck the marrow out of life' like Thoreau. I went in to find the edges. If something doesn't scare you, its easy.
Running with my brother, some time after midnight, he is suddenly injured. We tape up his leg, and then agree that I should go on, as he is now having to walk. Leaving someone behind in the forest goes against the human instinct to stay together, stay in tribes, stay safe, don't leave someone behind. I leave him and run off into the night.
We were walking and I have cooled down quickly. The heat of the day has dissipated into the ether. I run hard temporarily to get my body temperature up. I also run hard so I don't have to hear anything apart from my breath, I don't want to listen to the sounds of the forest right now. I turn off my head torch, there's nothing, like a coal mine I once visited as a kid.
Sounds. Sounds of the forest, everything that is meant to be here at night, we are not meant to be here.
Shapes, coming across an oil field one time and seeing the nodding machinery of hydrocarbon extraction in the middle of nowhere. Another time in another forest, a tree stump looking like a native American head carved, pointing the way to go.
Movement, there is rustling, keeping looking straight ahead. Then you see your shadow cast in front of you, you see it before you hear the people behind approaching, the light bobbing light lanterns at sea. Breathe in the torch light.
Another time, running in the mist at night, the torch light rebounds off the water particles hanging in the air, no path, no direction, running by feel and memory on familiar ground.
Another time, hours alone, senses in overdrive, making sure every turn is correct, no marker is missed. Follow the breadcrumbs, follow the clues. Others were lost but somehow I made it with no wrong turns, luck.
So focused, no time for the mind to drift, no time to think or reminisce. One pointedness.
'What do you think about when running?' In moments like this, nothing, the past and future are gone, its just night and movement.
If you think too much in these moments you will miss a turning, miss a marker. You will be lost, alone in the forest at night.
And the last time. An easy circuit. This time real fairy lights hanging in the trees, and the last thing I hear is 'Running up that hill' before I wake up in another town. The circle is not complete. The final night run.
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In the distance a vague hum of a generator and artificial light. Hot soup, or ginger beer or coffee at 3am, depending where you are. You've made it. And if you don't , the horizon always glows, the dawn always breaks. Another day will begin.
There is something about night running that cannot be captured anywhere else.
Sometimes I think about running at night.