Gone are the days when I stagger home from a hot, sweaty, dusty workout and find relief with the garden hose full blast in my face. Now I kick off my shoes inside the front door and brew my coffee, invigorated—not drained—ready for a warm drink and a hot shower.
As the days grow shorter, opportunities to watch the sunrise grow more frequent. Getting out of bed because I can sneak in a workout before the rest of the world is fully awake is a thing again. Selfishly, I love when dark, fall mornings allow me to spy in lit living rooms and see how others are starting their day. The mood is warm and cozy, and I revel in it.
All my long-sleeve tees and capris, long ago shoved to the bottom of my running gear and patiently waiting their turn, are moved back into rotation. The first morning the temps are in the low 50s and I slip on an extra layer, I feel as fresh and fast as a rabbit, and I swear my shoes feel like they’ve been sprinkled with pixie dust.
Fall is the golden hour of running, when the low sun slants through the trees and makes the hills look like a scene Monet would paint; when leaves are so beautiful they take your breath away, and I play counting games as they crunch underfoot: 10 yellow, 6 red, 8 orange. Mother Nature, after working so hard to produce and thrive, finally lets go of her responsibilites and allows herself to just be; we are rewarded with her farewell act that somehow feels even more extraordinary because we know how fleeting it is. What a gift to witness her beauty on two feet.
When it comes to running, do you agree fall has it all?