junk miles

I've heard this term before, referring to those weekday runs that you do not for speed or tempo, but just to put hay in the barn, so to speak. The kind of runs with no real agenda, other than accumulating a few miles to keep your legs working, and to justify your long run mileage.

I'm coming to love my junk miles. Don't get me wrong, I crave distance, mostly because I know I'll never have speed. But popping out at dusk on a fall evening for 25 minutes of loping along, just because I can, is delightful.

After such a long, hot, impossible summer, I am reveling in the cool weather. Rather than fight against the short days, I'm fully embracing them. I've got all kinds of reflective gear - a vest, a headband, bracelets, - and a headlamp, and suddenly there are a million more hours of the day available to me to get my fix. I usually run early in the morning, rather than in the evening, because it just fits better with our schedules, but today I had the chance to run at dusk, and I took it.

It was disorienting, running as it is getting darker and darker, when I'm used to starting out in the pitch black, and running as the sky begins to glow. I hadn't brought my headlamp, so just minutes into my run, I couldn't see where my feet were going to land. Once I got over the needing to see, it was a pleasant kind of sensory deprivation. I spied several other runners, also in their reflective gear, out for their nightly constitutionals. It's rare for me to see another soul on my morning runs.

I did see many more cars than I see in the morning - people headed home at the end of the workday. The pilot in me worried about ruining my night vision from the oncoming headlights, but the runner in me just chuckled and kept trusting her feet to the abyss.