The joy of running.

Now, I admit, most people don’t get the joy of running. They ask, where’s the joy in that? What’s joyous about running for miles? There’s no joy in that. If you think it’s so joyful, please keep it to yourself and let the rest of us normal folks go for a nice walk or bike ride.

I’ll also admit, there are days (though they are rare) I don’t feel the joy of running. Too many worries. Too much else going on. Other things need to get done.

So when I need a reminder of why I love running, I remember a recent trek on Tubbs Hill with my six-year-old granddaughter, Hadley, and a picture her mom took of her.

We went on our first trail run to the top of Tubbs on a beautiful sunny morning. While many kids might grumble about running up a hill, Hadley was all in. She was only willing to follow my lead for so long. When she got the chance, she charged ahead. Despite my warnings to slow down, be careful and watch your footing, treacherous terrain, she pushed on, bounding and up and over and around rocks and roots.

Not even the steepest of climbs deterred her. She didn’t flinch when I told her the top was still a ways off. No sweat.

When we did get there, we sat on a large rock, talked, listened to birds and admired the view. It was one of those moments I will remember. But the best was yet to come.

As we started down, Hadley zipped away. She flew down the trail. No fears of falling. No doubts about footing. She didn’t stop to think about what to do. She didn’t worry what was around the next turn. She just ran. She made it look easy and effortless.

As my daughter and I (she and other family members met us at the top) wound our way down, we caught up to Hadley, where she proudly pointed to a large rock.

“I jumped over that,” she said.

“Can you do it again so your mom can take a picture?” I said.

No problem.

Hadley walked back up the trail, turned around, and bolted, with quick, strong strides. And as she leaped, her pink shoes soaring, arms outstretched, ponytail flying, a smile on her face, her mom snapped away.

She got it.

Today, when I look at that picture, I see my beautiful granddaughter, a little girl of great spirit, full of love and happiness. I also see something more.

I see the joy of running. In that moment.

Hadley expressed it perfectly.

I hope you see it, too.

•••

Bill Buley is assistant managing editor of The

Coeur d’Alene Press. He can be reached at (208) 416-5110.