There’s something magical about that first run when the weather changes from summer to fall. Cool air collides with your cheeks. Your feet crunch fallen leaves in quick cadence.
A few runs ago, you wore a hat in an attempt to keep the sun’s heat from slowing you down. Now you want to feel the gentle warmth of it on every inch of your skin. You used to long to stop with each step, to bend over and breathe, to get a glass of water, to sit in the air conditioning. But when you run in the bliss that fall brings, you breathe with less effort. You feel alive like you're running in paradise, painted in yellow, orange, and red.
I remember the first time a race in college dipped down into the 50s. Suddenly, you felt fast and invincible instead of slow and beat-down. You passed people instead of people passing you.
The plowing you did on hot days is sprouting. Soon it would bear fruit. No, it’s not magical—although the glory it brings feels like it. It’s simply how God designed it.
Makes me want to go for a run in the early morning!