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Wisdom

Sarah Draper

Updated: Feb 2, 2024




I was really looking forward to running a specific trail this morning. It was one of those rare days when nothing else was on the schedule, since one of my kids’ basketball games was cancelled. I’d been a little run down the last couple of days and hadn’t had much exercise, so when I awoke today after a great night’s sleep (finally!), I was feeling really good. I planned my morning so I could do my weekly grocery shopping at a store somewhat close to this trail to save some time and gas and headed to the trail after the store.


This trail system starts on the backside of a popular park and there are always many people on the trails near the parking area. They thin out fairly quickly as you gain some distance and elevation. There’s a portion of this trail that I love as it cuts through a ravine, there’s a stream running along one side, and it’s serene. I struggle to put it into words, but when I run through it, I feel secure, like the hills are giving me a hug (again, no words are fitting). It’s also quite empty, so it’s just me and my thoughts. I knew that it would soon be covered in snow, so this might be my last chance to run it until spring.


As I was getting towards the juncture for this particular trail, a really fit woman was running down towards me. She warned me that the trail got icy ahead. I asked her how far up, and she said about ¾ of a mile. I thanked her and warned her about a patchy spot I’d just gotten through. I decided to keep going, because even if I turned around when it got bad, that’d still be 1 ½ miles of serenity. I’d take it!


Just as she’d alerted me, the trail got icy. For a brief moment, I thought about going ahead, but decided against it. I want to say it was five decades of wisdom that has taught me that things get icier the higher you go, or recognition that my reflexes have slowed, or fear of a bruised knee or tailbone ruining our first day of skiing tomorrow. All those probably had something to do with it. But mostly, it was the woman’s warning. I didn’t know her, but I respected her shared wisdom because of her obvious expertise. She clearly knew running – she was fit and precise with her distance estimate. So when I saw the ice, I learned from her experience, took this photo and turned around. I never made it to the section I really love, but I made it back to the car safely.


We learn in so many different ways – repetition, emotional events, reflection on our experiences. And we don’t have to experience everything individually to learn, either. The next time you feel stuck, uncertain, or something doesn’t feel right, of course listen to yourself and experiences. But also consider talking with someone you trust – a professional coach, mentor, partner, friend, or even an expert you don’t know. We are all in this together and shared wisdom can carry us farther than any one of us could ever get alone.


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Boise, Idaho

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