Yellow flashy Usain Bolt-esque runners tied and I’m out the door before the morning sun peaks over the mountain-tops. Florence & The Machine rage in my ears as I begin my warm-up. Herds of cow, horse and sheep meander on the lightly dew dropped mountain searching for their mornings feast.
I am a morning runner, therefore I run.
The mountain pulls me down her slight decline for three kilometers. The salt water breeze kisses my face and I run head on into its morning freshness.
This is how I start my mornings four times a week. Every week, summer excluded.
My turn around point is a small parking area for those wishing to text, chat or play games on their mobile devices, take a pee or watch the stunning panoramic view of the Bay of Asinara.
I used to stop and take in the view, watch the ocean crash in on this stunning island oasis. However, I’ve become stronger in my runs and want to continue on.
Hunting season is a rite of passage for most young boys in Sardinia. Their father and their father’s father have passed down generations of knowledge and whereabouts of the islands fine animals. Hunting on the island of Sardinia has taken place since the first inhabitants set foot on this sprawling lush island.
For those that love to exercise outdoors (like myself) it’s good to know when the hunters will be roaming the mountains that I run oh so close to. Last year I had just turned a corner, making decent pace when Continue reading →