Like so many runners around the world I went out on Sunday and ran a trail for Micah True, a man I never knew.
My chosen trail was 33 kms in length and it was mostly new territory for me.
I had, as it happened, already planned to recce this section of trail as part of the middle section of a much longer route I'm aiming to run over later in the year.
Learning of the death of Micah True shortly before starting, I dedicated yesterday's run to his spirit and memory.
The contents of the rucksack included my rations: an egg, an orange, and a bottle of water; plus the camera, reading glasses and map.
There were some flurries of snowflakes on the morning breezes followed by periods sunshine and as the day warmed up I was able to dispense with my gloves and lightweight running jacket.
Nearly 5 hours after setting off I strolled into a bar to enjoy a beer; and there I thought deeply about my raison d'etre and man's desire to run close to nature that Caballo Blanco or White Horse as Micah True is known, has rekindled in so many of us.
Micah True needed no Olympic stadium filled with hype and artificiality. He was aware of the real eternal spirit and meaning of running, of its essential connection to nature. Its simplicity. The act of putting one foot in front of the other in natural surroundings and enjoying the experience.