Ah, spring. Soon its colors, smells and promise will be everywhere. Even people in the northern parts of our country-where trees are still bare and lifeless and the air still chilled-will sense its coming. It's just a matter of time before we're graced with an extra hour of evening daylight, too. For many of us, this means more time for running.
For me, too, but not for the same reason. I'm one of those people who loves to run in the darkness before dawn. I enjoy lurking on the "dark side" of daylight saving time. So when the clocks soon "spring forward," I'll have my extra hour.
Perhaps you've heard of us-the shadowy few. As the rest of the world sleeps snugly under down and flannel, we pre-dawn runners are up and out in the world. Out there on traffic-free streets, enjoying the pitch-black freedom that surrounds us.
We're guided by moonlight and streetlights and, sometimes, no lights. Often I glimpse wildlife in the shadows, which startles and thrills me. I've seen foxes and deer crossing city roads that in daytime are choked with traffic. These sights are reserved for us pre-dawn runners alone. They are our reward.
We're great rationalizers, we pre-dawners. Most people-even other runners-consider us crazy for leaving our toasty beds to dash onto the roads in the dark of night. But we've worked out plausible reasons for running in most foul-weather situations:
Scenario: It's dark, it's 5 a.m., and the howling wind is whipping through a bone-chilling rain.
Our rationale: Just another couple of challenges for us morning runners. They make us tough.
Scenario: It's dark and particularly cold on our morning run, but it brightens and warms up later in the day.
Our rationale: Smug satisfaction that the weather didn't stop us from running earlier. Anyone can run when it's nice out.
Scenario: It's clear and pleasant when we run, but turns nasty later in the day.
Our rationale: Sorry about the weather, guys-you should have gone out earlier. Be careful of those lightning bolts now.
For the last couple of weeks, the weather has been growing a little milder here in Atlanta. It's still "tights weather" in the early-morning hours, but I definitely detect a change in the air. Mornings in the 30s often give way to afternoons in the 70s.
I've been noticing something else, too. By the end of my morning runs, the first hints of daylight have been peeking over the eastern horizon. Like other pre-dawn runners, I've been feeling a tinge of sadness about this. As sure as the sunrise, the days are growing longer.
Soon, though, all will be set right. On that final Sunday in March, we'll get that extra hour of darkness in the morning. And I'll have more time to run.
(courtesy of RunnersWorld.com)