I recently came upon a YouTube video channel that I enjoyed several years ago. Set in Belgium's Meerdael Forest, three short movies show an extremely lean and fit fellow named Pieter put himself through the paces in a simple and primal way. The background music is upbeat as Pieter goes about jumping, lifting and running barefoot through the trees due east of Brussels. He even includes his young son in this simple yet demanding regimen, proving that workout time and a young family can be combined in wholly creative manner.
Watching these films again reminded why I love a forest. Together with a beach, a forest is simply one of my favourite places no matter what the activity. Whether running, walking or just being among the trees, there is a solitude and energy like no other, a special feeling that is difficult to actually describe.
Just this past weekend I bumped into a friend - in the forest of course -that I hadn't seen for some while and we got chatting.
"Why aren't you running?" he inquired as we met.
"Walking this morning and collecting pine cones for the fireplace," I replied before adding that running would indeed take place later in the day.
"Oh, OK. This my favourite part of the forest. Let's hope they don't get rid of these pines, hey?"
"Let us hope not."
A prolific mountain biker he related how he is not cycling at all at the moment. The upper forest is closed at the moment and the roads are busy he said, adding that stand-up-paddle-boarding (SUP-ing) is his current sport of choice. Walking his dogs in the forest remains his go to activity though, something which he says keeps him grounded and calm (he is a hedge-fund manager) and above all loves to do.
I have long associated a forest as the basis of my athletic aspirations. Even in my formative years fartlek through the trees left me in far better condition than trying to acquire speed on a track. One of my earliest triathlon mentors based most of his pre-elite season run training in Newlands and Cecilia Forests here in Cape Town. He would even drive 2km to park nearer the forest so as to avoid the tarmac journey to get there. Not one for early mornings, I can recall him lamenting a 6am Saturday morning long ride before his eyes lit up when the conversation turned to his "definitely running in the forest this afternoon." The great Peter Snell waxed lyrical of how running long in a cool forest always recharged his batteries in the middle of track season.
This morning dawned clear and crisp. Being winter here in South Africa means it is still dark around 7am when I jog the few kilometres to work. There is a large park near our house which is home to several clumps of aging pines. Jogging through these trees in the last few minutes before dawn is always wonderful; a great way to start the day. The nearby street lights illuminate this otherwise pitch dark area ensuring stable footing and marginal line of sight. My journey through the dark forest lasts only a few minutes but that is OK - there is another clump of pines further along the route.
