A Lonely Run

Running’s all about perseverance and consistency, but when I do an outstanding run, it really boosts my mood.

The torch in my arm pierces through the early evening and reveals the path of fallen leaves ahead. My lungs are breathing the cool, wet air in. If someone were to shout “boo!” from behind the trees, I’m sure I’d scream at the top of my lungs, but maybe then I’ll set a new personal record.

November evening runs with their mist and cold air, and utter darkness before six p.m.