Posted on February 4, 2014

menstrie-02There is something about running at home that’s like no other run. Just walking even… the familiar sights and smells, the millions of memories that come flooding back as you catch a glimpse of a tree where you once climbed or a flower once planted on a summers day. I thought about this, this morning as I ran up the beautiful trails behind my house… along rivers, through dense forest, past fields and around Scotland’s Yellowcraig Woods… a huge expanse of stunning woodland, overlooking the spectacular Stirling Castle and the magnificent Wallace Monument. This land is owned by my family so my tie to their trails goes beyond skin deep.

I woke early and crept out before a mouse had stirred. Opening the heavy storm doors, I ventured out into a cold, dark morning… to a chill in the air and a biting wind on my face, but the feeling of being home kept me warm.

I know I’m not alone with these feelings. We all travel today to all four corners. I, for one, am rarely in one place for a month. My annual calendar of adventures becomes more exotic and far-fetched every year… a continuous flurry of plots and plans to weird and wonderful places.

But then once home, I ask myself why I spend my life on the move when I’m fortunate to come from one of the most beautiful countries in the world… home to scenic lochs and dramatic mountains, enchanting castles and mystical folklore.

Perhaps this is exactly the reason. Because only by venturing further afield, do we truly appreciate what lies on our doorstep. Similar I suppose to the wonderful words of Thoreau, when he said that only when we are lost, are we found.

Nice words and food for thought the next time you return to wherever you call home and venture out before the dawn has broken to tread on old trails and marvel over memories…

There really is no place like home.




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