I stood in the middle of the trail surrounded by occasional flashes of brick red, sunshine yellow, and burnt orange among damp dark-brown, almost-black tree trunks and tangles of bushes that existed in sharp contrast to the wet and pale-green tufts of grass that struggled to survive under the thick canopy of forest. I realized that I was fortunate. To be able to run freely and unencumbered on difficult trails in Appalachia was a gift. “I am living the dream. I am living the dream!” I screamed to any tree that would listen. Here I was, huffing, puffing, and whining inwardly about something I
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