Earlier, I ran a short bit on the treadmill. It was a lunchtime hill run. But with calls of up to twelve inches of snow overnight, I decided on an evening run anticipating there would be none tomorrow. With my headlamp wrapped around my hat and gloves on my fingers, I ran down into Wissahickon Valley.
I’m drawn to night runs. Probably for the same reasons others are too: solitude, beauty, and the challenge of dancing on dark trails. Tonight, the temperatures remain frigid. Puffs of air and small flecks of fallen snow glitter in my headlamp while I run. I try to steady my breath and correct my posture. I slip on exposed ice and fumble at branches for support. There is no falling tonight.