A Different Kind Of Beautiful

Last weekend I noticed something while I drove Interstate 5, southbound, at about 70 miles per hour.  I noticed a flag flying high up in the hills overlooking San Juan Capistrano, Dana Point and San Clemente.  It was an American flag, I could tell that.  How I never noticed it before, I cannot tell.

Well, I’m one of those sort of runners who sees a flag and then has to, and I mean HAS TO run to it.  I got quickly thinking which trails might lead to this flag, and determined the trails off Las Ramblas, ones that I have never run, would probably take me there. 

There’s a reason I don’t run the Las Ramblas trails.  Very simple.  No shade.  I love trees, and I love shade.  Take both of those out, well, I pretty much stay away from you.

But I HAD TO run to that flag.

And so, on day 29 of my running streak, I strapped on my pack and headed out on the hot, exposed trails of Las Ramblas.  It was scorching, and it was a struggle, but I made it.  I ran the trails that went up, and I made it to the flag in about 2.5 miles.  And I discovered that just because these trails aren’t “my cup of tea,” they are still beautiful – a different kind of beautiful. 

Miles logged:  5.04

Psycho rider up in front of me:

I think I see my house – that tiny dot way over there:

I signed one of the several flag journals, read a few entries and wrote out my blog url:

View of Saddleback Mountains:

One more trip back up to the flag before heading back.