Runners' high? yes. New Zealand high? OH yes.

My running shoes got their first New Zealand dirt on them today. The morning was cold and cloudy, and I had pretty much ruled out any kind of outdoor activity before I was done with breakfast. But, by noon it was getting sunny and beginning to warm up, and this felt like a good Saturday afternoon to get out and see something new. I pulled out a map and Maxine gave me directions to a few of her favorite running trails.

First thing: what to wear? I hadn't been able to shake the morning chill that had crept in somewhere between Howe and St. David, and had settled and made itself comfortable by the time I reached Albany Street, and the sisters' house.

I knew I'd warm up as soon as I got moving and therefore three layers of clothing would not be necessary, but a little voice still begged for sweat pants, a few fleeces and maybe a ski mask. I forced that voice into silence. Leggings? Shorts? Leggings with shorts? Now this was getting into style territory that I've never entered. I ended up walking out the door in a moderately warm uniform suitable for joining the national rugby team (the All-Blacks). I've seen dozens of people running regularly around here, and as soon as I got moving I hoped to pretend I was one of them, and pretend that I had actually run more than once in the last month. I started north on George Street, and soon the familiar rhythmic pound of running shoes on pavement felt good.

When I reached the Woodhaugh Gardens the trail I was looking for was less obvious than I thought. One trail head looked warm and inviting, with sunlight spilling through thick foliage onto a beautiful gray slate gravel path. A few meters away another trail seemed to lead toward the Leith River. A little farther down the street, a third led up a hill. I ended up trying all three and finally sticking to the first, that went through the garden. I've never seen a garden like this, and apparently it's one of the only of its kind in the world. There were rich green lawns spread amongst a maze of enticing trails that looped through native lowland swamp forest. It's hard to describe what this looks and feels like. In the forested areas, the floor was covered in mosses and fern, and the secluded trails were canopied by native trees, which have thin trunks and branches that twist and turn as they grow. I took a deep breath and the warm, moist air that came in smelled tropical. In the open, grassy areas a swing set, two see-saws, a hidden pond, and a wooden gazebo were discovered as I wound through the trails that looped and meandered and went absolutely nowhere in the most delightful way possible.

Beyond the garden, the trail was supposed to meet a few other trails, so I went on. I never found the one to the reservoir that I was looking for, but I had a fantastic time exploring the area. I had to slow down and walk at times because a few trails climbed steeply to display the northwest outskirts of Dunedin, with green Mt Cargill and Flagstaff Mountain in the distance. As I got a little farther away I discovered a path that stretches along the river for quite some distance. I followed it for a while, slowing to a walk so I could take in more detail. The water is beautiful--it's clear, and makes little falls and spillways as the terrain rises and drops. I savored the feeling of carefree exploring, and the enjoyment of having no time constraints and no concerns of getting lost.

When I finally decided to head home I ran once again. I didn't know where I was but, sure enough, I found a street, that street led to a path, that path led back to the garden and in five minutes from there I was home. Exhilarating.