Early Morning November Run

Having signed up yesterday for a Thanksgiving 5K run, I figured I should go out and try and run that distance. Over the past year I have my emphasis to other forms of exercise, so now running is just an occasional thing.

The neighborhood has a lingering aroma of Halloween. The cool morning air is punctuated with the smell of burnt pumpkin, emanating from the hundreds of jack-o-lanterns left over from last night's Halloween festivities. The air is just cool enough to make my breath visible, and the sky is clear and blue.

As I hit the trail I break into my usual leisurely running pace. I'm used to being passed not only by stronger athletes but also by toddlers taking their first steps, three-legged dogs, and, in the Springtime, energetic caterpillars. But I plug along.

Soon I come up on Ralph the Dentist. He's a walker and so is much slower than I am - I like that. He's ready with his usual gruff, gregarious "Good morning!" I don't know if Ralph is actually a dentist. In fact, I don't even know if his name is Ralph. I've never spoken with the man except to exchange greetings on the trail. His name and occupation were supplied to me by another of the W&OD trail regulars. I also saw Andi the Gazelle. I have actually spoken with Andi once - we met at a party hosted by a former CIA analyst (true!). I call her "the Gazelle" because she has a very fluid running style, as if gravity affects her a little bit less than it does the rest of us.

As I ran I also noticed the seasonal changes - leaves turning brown, Virginia Creeper dying back, and so on.

The run went without a hitch, as I expected it would. As usual, near the end I started bargaining with myself as to where to finish up. It's a fairly steep uphill climb from the trail to my house, some of which I do at a walking pace as a cool down. The variable is where to transition from running to walking. There's the bridge to the trail, the spot where I get to the sidewalk, the first and second cross streets. The lazy part of me always argues for the shortest run - just to the bridge. Today I overcame that lazy voice and ran as far as the first cross street - my usual compromise stopping part. A successful 5K - I didn't time it, though.