I’ve just learned that I’m an avoider. A runner. It’s always been there, at least the instinct if not the follow through. It’s ironic a little, because I’m quite the mama bear. One night after dark a strange dog without a leash, or a person, came running toward me and my two year old. I was quick to stand directly in between the dog and my son. The dog turned out to be our neighbors kind, and silly lab but  it wasn’t until after the dog began running away that I realized the 6″1′ man we were walking with had run the opposite direction and was now half a block away. Physically, there are very few threats I am likely to back down from. Emotionally, all it takes is a hint of doubt for me to begin dreaming of my Canadian escape. An A-frame at the end of a long pack trail. An Alaskan cabin on enough land to sustain My son and myself. A Washington sunset that colors my trail. A backpack stuffed with only the essentials.

I’m a runner, with knee issues.

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