When you run in the dark, you see things that you may not see in daylight. For instance, I ran with the beloved Kat Grillo when I got off work at midnight yesterday, and the moon shone with fury. Stars dotted the sky, which is something incredible for those of us who grew up in a big city with intruding lights. I was also graced with the presence of five deer. They made a brief appearance before bounding across the road only fifty yards ahead of us (we may have interrupted a midnight snack).
Not as dark as midnight, dawn is an incredible time to run as well. You get to watch the early birds (literally) grab their breakfast before taking refuge in the shade of a tree. One time, I left my house at about six in the morning, just as the sun was beginning to rise, and I encountered a raccoon finishing its meal out of a neighbor's trash can. I stopped to observe, and when it saw me through it's blackened eyes, it scurried to a drain gutter, perhaps never to be seen again. And I'll never forget the morning a skunk ran alongside The White Gazelle and me during practice in a forested park. The sun had yet to raise its head from slumber, but we runners and skunks couldn't wait to begin the day.
Much more can be said about running in the dark, but work is calling. Peace.
