The O'Hill Run: Trail Running in UVA's Backyard

Although the recent transition to daylight savings time makes it a bit easier, it’s not often that I’m awake to see the sunrise. This morning, however, as the weather has taken a brief turn for the better, I decided a pre-dawn run would be a perfect way to start the day. It wasn’t a long run or uniquely difficult, but it was one of the most impactful I’ve had to date. I ran through grounds in the dark, passing a few runners on the way, and thinking, as I passed each of them, how crazy they were to be up at this hour. I felt like a visitor here, as if walking into one of those beautiful old churches that tourists love to go into to take pictures, except I had walked in mid-service. I was not a regular, but I was strangely welcome. Feeling adventurous, and not wanting to metaphorically slide into the back row, I decided to climb the bell tower. 
I reached the base of O-hill near Slaughter Gym and began the ascent still surrounded by darkness. With my Ipod playing and the road lined only with trees and a scattering of buildings I didn’t know, I stopped paying attention to my surroundings and started to do more feeling than seeing. My feet strode with a rhythmic gentleness, perfectly in beat with The Rolling Stones, “I Can’t Get No Satisfaction,” which was playing on my Ipod at the time; my hair, much in need of a cut, bounced along in accompaniment. I reached the top with some time to spare. It was getting light, but the sun was still down, so I jogged down to a trail that encircles the top for a quick loop.

Trail running is completely different from road running; you have to constantly watch the ground to avoid rocks, roots, or anything else that can trip you up or sprain your ankle. After a while, it becomes entrancing- I lost track of the sun for a minute or two, and as I turned a corner, I realized, not even halfway through the loop, that it had crept up on me and was beginning to break the horizon. At this point my song is Dave Matthews and Tim Reynolds’ live rendition of “Minarets,” (Live at Luther College) which has the refrain “What you see, what you see is human.” And, as the sun came up, I felt just that, profoundly human. After hours upon hours of running, volunteering, and thinking about the Thankful campaign, I finally felt a genuine, uninterrupted sense of thankfulness. I was thankful for nothing in particular- life maybe, but that doesn’t quite do it justice. It wasn’t selfish in nature. I wasn’t glad that I had the opportunity to experience these things. I was simply glad that they were there, regardless of my presence. I can’t do the moment justice other than telling you to run up O-hill on a warmish spring morning and catch the sunrise while listening to some Dave Matthews, but if I had to define what this campaign means to me in one moment, that would be it.

Chris and I still have many miles ahead of us, and but the journey has been, and continues to be, immensely rewarding. It hadn’t occurred to me until now, but the Madison House logo is a picture of a sun. After today’s run, I hope to keep a little bit of that sense of thankfulness with me not just in captivating sunrise moments, but as I go about daily life. It won’t be as overwhelming as this morning. I know that because it’s already faded quite a bit, but the knowledge that that sort of thankfulness exists and can be felt is enough to keep me going for a while, and I hope to cultivate this gratitude as we continue with the campaign and beyond. Progress.

Written by Alex Shannon