I cross the street, tuck into a partially hidden trail that snakes behind the neighborhood houses, and vanish from the asphalt running world. Fallen tree branches criss-cross the first few meters of this particular trail, which starts just a few tenths of a mile down the street from my house. I hop-skip over some of the limbs, while others require more careful navigation. The branches snap under my feet. Sometimes, when I land in just the right way, they ricochet upwards, and smack my legs. I relish the feeling. My legs are alive, moving, feeling part of the natural world. …