I felt invigorated as I pressed the start button on my Garmin this morning. While the leaves rustled from a south wind, it is still warm enough to wear shorts and a short-sleeved shirt. And I woke before my alarm went off at an unfortunate hour, so my sense of being awake was a bit more sharp then normal.
Since it’s often quite dark when I start my morning runs, I usually grab a headlamp for safety measure. I’ve clipped a blinking red light on the back of the strap so motorists approaching from behind will notice me. But rarely do I turn on the bright white headlamp – unless an vehicle is approaching and I must share the road with it.
Lately, I’ve been running to the southern edge of town, exploring side streets and different roads in the dark. It fills me with a sense of adventure to explore new areas; the routine of running the same route is simply not in my DNA.
This morning, as I headed south, I looked into the clear sky. The stars were crisp and bright. That connection to the outdoors reminded me of one reason why I run. But my mind still flashed back to Tuesday when I was on a road south of town and the horizon was painted with a streak of crimson.
On both occasions, after running about 6 miles, I returned home, scooped up Coby and put a leash on him. While he had his first “official” run on Monday, at a half mile, it appears the pooch, who turns 2 months old tomorrow, has far more energy than it takes for him to run a half mile. So, on Tuesday and again today, he joined me for a mile.
He’s determined to stay by my side, and I reward him with belly rubs and treats, for being so good at running with me. My guess is that Coby is going to be quite a runner as he matures. Until then, I just need a way to tame those puppy teeth.