The Ascension of Man Part Two

Here's part two of a story that is becoming increasingly bloated and pointless :) Hopefully i'll find someway to put some interesting things in the story. I've got a decent ending but the middle is killing me.

Arden walked around the forest for the rest of the day in every direction until he was quiet sure that he was thoroughly lost. The Stream was distant now, and its rippling waters could not be heard over the crunch of his feet on the leaf-laden ground. He would camp here tonight. He would experience sleep without stress or deadline for the first time in [number of months] and he was confident that after this uninterrupted sleep he would have no recollection at all of the meandering path he'd taken today.

On the morrow Arden jumped a little, because it was so bright (despite the canopy above him). But when his hands crushed red and orange leaves and when his back complained of the hard ground and the gnarled roots of trees that had been his bed, he relaxed. His memory of yesterday flooded back to him and he smiled because as he looked around nothing looked familiar, except that it all looked the same. He'd been successful in losing himself, in cutting himself off from any landmark or communication. Now he had six days to find himself again, but to find his true self, the self that did not wear a suit and tie every morning and did not answer to a horde of pathetic, sophisticated board members. Here in the forest, somewhere between the Stream and the Cave, an Arden dressed in woolen robes with a nest of robins for a crown dwelt happily and thoughtlessly for ever and for ever.

Arden laughed in spite of himself, that was a bit too silly, but as he gathered his things into his travel bag he winced a little at the thought that he was wearing mostly polyester and his shoes (the very best running shoes that money could buy) were mostly made of plastic in all likelihood. So, he set out again with less of a smile than yesterday and with a slower step, until he hit upon the solution. He removed his shoes and then his socks, reveling in that sudden feeling of freedom as the result of two-thousand years of stocking-technology fell from his toes. He then removed his jacket and felt the synthetic weight lift off of him.

In khaki pants and a t-shirt he darted off, to where he knew not and little cared. He simply wanted the wind to rush through his hair for the moment and to feel fast and agile as he hopped across the forest floor, dodging the roots and branches of the oak and pine. But Arden was not a young man and he grew tired quickly. He hadn't run like this since... since college perhaps? But maybe running was the sort of thing he'd pick back up quickly and by the end of the week he would be able to run the length of the forest. In any case he was out of breath and sweating now, and he realized that the sun had reached its zenith.