The art of getting lost

And finding your way back

Sometimes when I’m out on a run I lose track of where I am. Not entirely, of course. I know that I’m in Massachusetts and not in say, Kathmandu. But every so often, the mental gearwork will loosen just enough so that the elements of place that keep me rooted to the earth start to unwind, and I’m left wondering, wait a second, where am I? 

With training a…