Running in the woods: a reflection

It's just about the middle of August, and signs of a new season are beginning to appear. While walking to school this morning, I passed two local cross country teams training in the woods. They gathered first at a parking lot near the water. Then, having separated into girls' and boys' teams, each set out across the stream in opposite directions, almost like my old cross country team used to do on the Perkiomen trail. Not always, but often one group would go "left" (or North on the trail) and the other would go "right," or South on the trail.

In general I found it easier to go left than right, because there were fewer busy roads to cross that way. It's also the direction we took on my first run along the trail, and so became a matter of habit in short order. In late Autumn there is a stretch of trail going "left" which becomes, for a few day,s like the nave of a golden cathedral. I don't remember the types of trees along that stretch, but their leaves became a golden yellow shortly after the NCAA Region meet. On runs at that time, my teammates and I used to try and catch the leaves as they fell from from the trees. It's surprisingly difficult to do, particularly on a windy day; they flutter and weave, changing directions suddenly and always tending away from one's grasp. In this respect, it's a bit like trying to hold a memory, even one so fond as that. But I digress.

While it is only the middle of August, a few leaves have already changed their color. Not much mind you, but enough for notice. Splashes here and there of red and yellow punctuate an otherwise brilliant collage of various green, brown, and gray. Jogging along a muddy trail today, I watched a few golden leaves tinged with brown on the edges fall as I passed. And while it proved rather humid, the cooler temperature today seemed to exude a scent of Fall, which is unequivocally my favorite season.

About two weeks from now, that same trail will play host to a local high school cross country meet, the Viking Invitational. For many teams involved, it's their first race of the new season. It may even be someone's first cross country race.

I remember my first cross country race. It was absolutely horrible, haha. It was a hot and humid day in the beginning of September, and I hadn't trained much yet. The course ran over the grounds of my old high school, which once had a rather long hill at the end of the first mile (which is now gone), typically the place where the well-prepared dropped everyone else. Several people "dropped" me that day, though the one I remember most vividly was a skinny fellow from Bensalem wearing miler-spikes. That wasn't fun. The whole race wasn't fun. Once I got over it though and trained up a bit, cross country became my favorite sport. Strange how that happens sometimes, but so it goes.

The days are getting shorter now, about 2 minutes less of sunshine each day. A month from now we'll have an hour less than today. Odd to think, but I guess it's okay. The march of seasons continues. I hope you are having an interesting ride.
Happy Tuesday, friends :)