On days when the first chills nip at the edge of the summer's rear end, the conversation goes like this:
Non runner: "Oh, crap, I can't believe I had to wear a jacket this morning"
Runner: "Yeah, I'm going to have to put away the singlet..."
NR: "I mean, now I can't wear sandals, and my summer dress!"
R: "But shorts, I'll keep them on until it's maybe below 6C..."
NR: "I'm so sad that summer is all but over"
R: "May need gloves soon, my hands get cold easily"
NR: "Wait, you run outside when it's cold?"
R: "Best time of the year. Best time of the year"
I was walking to work in the early morning, my jacket on, and I could feel the chills. I smiled. It was just the the chilly walks I remember from countless early Sunday mornings when I and thousands of others start prepping for a marathon start. The chill means that racing season is here. It means that suffering through the summer has had your body paid if full, its dues. Like emerging from a sauna, you get a sense of relief. Cold air at the beginning of a run, combined with the right sparse amount of clothing that leaves you desperately cold in the first few minutes, means you've dressed for perfection. When you start ramping up your pace, and the heat rises, you're in a perfect place.
And you know when the weather's perfect that after the run, it's still cold out, and you need a shiny cape to keep you warm.
What's your favourite weather?