Running and the definition of life

Around the next corner it is going to get better
the top of this hill is five steps away
Today feels better than yesterday
The suffering is all in my head
My lungs are burning
Awesome song, forgot the pain due to jamming out
Watch the rocks, don't twist the ankles
Make sure to look up, can't miss it all
Finally.
... Wow, what a beautiful world.

On multiple runs in the past month, when running has been a healing factor for both body and soul, thoughts have tended toward the comparison of running to life. As one chooses a trail, so can one choose a path in life.
Of course, the corresponding trail-to-path is not always perfect, but the similarities provide a refreshing perspective on decision making processes. Plus, I just have a lot of time to think while I'm running...

The steep trail run: For this run, the choice has been made to suffer physically for the oneness with nature, the crisp air, the changing scenery, getting to the top and the satisfaction suffering brings. This has been the run of choice for me as of late, and I find that it also corresponds with the path I have chosen for my life. Giving up the 'straight-and-narrow' path that leads to a solid career, more education, a serious significant other and the security of knowing every day could very well be the same as the one before has reaped benefits unimaginable, but also is potentially as fleeting as this beautiful November weather. The sacrifices are there, as shopping and entertainment have to be re-assessed, along with several other 'necessities,' but in the end, it is insignificant when compared to the pure elation of the travel.
The view has been spectacular and ever-changing. What I can see from the top, with a clear mind and a healthy body can not be compared to anything else that I might experience with greater security. The feeling of being able to claw my way to the peak, for the purpose of the trip, as opposed to simply wanting to get to the top, makes the summit a far better accomplishment. The idea of stopping to smell the flowers is half of the beauty of this trail, the other half is not being able to smell the flowers because of breathing so hard, inhaling with any other purpose than to breathe seems insignificant. Playing hard is the name of the game; but so is stopping when it is necessary to appreciate, meditate and celebrate.
Of course, there will be a time when my muscles say, "No more," or money takes precedence over time, and all that is left is pavement-pounding and running to get a run in for the day. The scenery doesn't matter, and all that does is raising your heartbeat for the doctor-recommended 30 minutes a day. There is no celebrating at the top, because there is rarely a 'top.' The only thing good about the run is getting back home. Is this the way an activity should be? Never. Running, and its life equivalent, should be the thing to which one looks forward at the conclusion of the day's duties. There is no need for a stopwatch, unless simply for curiosity's sake, because there is nowhere else to be but the present.
There is no soul in conquering concrete, but sometimes the soul gets left at the trail's summit, and awaits the day when it is reclaimed by the huffing hippie that left it there. I'm still searching for my summit, and loving every minute of it.