I like to run on the trails in some of the national parks in my area and have always found them challenging, but also a chance for connection with others doing the same. I have entered and ran a few long-distance events and enjoy the sense of achievement, but I still have a love hate relationship with running.

One of the downsides for me are the thoughts in my head telling me many things including, ‘I’m getting slower, I’m failing, I’m not fast enough, I’m not good enough’. Then after the run, ‘That time was rubbish’, and ‘How can I have been running for so long and still be so slow?’

What thoughts go through your head when you run or walk?

Recently, I decided to embark on a different kind of run—one where I left my watch at home and focused on listening to my body and appreciating the beauty of nature around me.

The Start of My Journey

At first, it felt strange to run without my watch. How would I know how far I’d gone? How long I’d been out? What about my elevation or pace? How will I know if I’m getting better? These questions went around in my mind as I set off on the track leading into the forest.

What would it feel like for you to run without your watch?

The run started off well. The rocky path leading into the forest is alongside a gully filled with ferns and gum trees. The birds sing their morning song to me and humidity drips from the branches.

As I navigate the terrain—jumping over tree roots and splashing through muddy puddles—I feel a sense of freedom. Halfway up the track, I hear a bird call that resembles a distant crying baby. It sends a chill down my spine, but I welcome it as part of the experience. Later, I learn this sound belongs to a Green Catbird.

Embracing Nature’s Rhythms

Running on, I stumble slightly forcing me to slow down. The air is thick with humidity and the dampness on my skin cools me as I run. As I run out of the shade into the light the sun warms my skin and makes me slow a bit more.

I notice the fungi growing at the side of the track and stop to take a picture and notice the colours are vibrant up close – something I couldn’t see from above. I continue on and slow again as I come to a wooden bridge over the gully and notice there is water in the stream today, which rushes over the stones and gurgles its way down the hill at its own pace. I pass other walkers and runners and say hello.

What do you notice when you run or walk in nature?

The track takes me into the shade again and I feel grateful to the tree canopy above for the shade. The track is changing now from forest floor to rock. My legs feel heavy on the track as I have been travelling uphill now for a while, and I slow to a walk.

Finding My Flow

As I walk I notice that my body is starting to recover from the hill and my heart rate is slowing. I feel like I can run again and start a gentle jog. The track changes again and there is a downhill section where I can fly. My feet feel lighter here and the heaviness in my legs is easier. Then the track changes again to sand and I slow.

A black cockatoo nests in the dunes above me and the pink, yellow, blue and white bush orchids blink at me. Up ahead I hear rustling in the bush and a brush turkey pokes its head out and looks at me then runs into the track ahead of me zig zagging back and forth as if asking me to follow.

I’m starting to feel tired now, I think I’ll complete my loop here and take the coastal route back. Thoughts pop into my head, ‘How long have I been going for? and, ‘How far have I gone’ and I look at these thoughts and then let them go. 

I run back along the coastal track and watch the sea hurtling itself against the cliffs and rocks below. The sea spray occasionally landing on my legs as I walk or run. I can taste the salt here and it’s different to the ferny taste in the forest and I am grateful for the wind to cool my skin. I can hear the waves, but also the distant sound of people talking out on their surfboards in the water and it comforts me.

A Moment of Reflection

As I return to the car park I realise that it doesn’t matter how far I’ve run or how long I’ve been out for, or how much elevation I’ve done, or what my cadence is. I ran today without my watch and it’s ok..

The Gift of Slowing Down

Slowing down in nature helped me to notice more of the details of the natural world, which has strengthened my connection to nature.

I feel grateful for the way the trees provided shade to cool me down and for cleaning the air that I breathe. I also feel grateful for the thick humidity in summer as it helps to slow me down. Further I feel grateful for the sunny spots that dry up the muddy puddles, but also grateful to the muddy puddles for cooling my legs and for making me remember jumping in them when I was younger.

Leaving the watch at home helped me to strengthen my own intuition of how my body is feeling and listen to it when it has had enough and to realise that it’s ok to slow down sometimes.

What do you feel grateful for in nature?