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Do you ever have days where the only time you can possibly fit in exercise is what we fondly called in the Army “o-dark-thirty”?

In the summer, this isn’t a problem because the sun rises about 5am and I rarely see the need to get up any earlier. Yet in mid-October, it’s really not light until almost 7am, and that’s often the time I need to be in the shower.

There’s only one thing to do:  get out my reflective gear and go for a run in the dark! Twice this week I started running a bit after 6am. I rarely see any cars, and never anyone else walking or running. I love the peace and quiet, the way the moonlight and stars filter dim light through the trees, and being able to watch the world wake up.

Another bonus to running or walking in the dark:  you can’t see the hills, and just glide up them!

If you haven’t been out in the early morning hours before the sun comes up, give it a try. Make sure to wear reflective gear so cars can see you. The first step out of bed is tough. The step out the door isn’t always a lot of fun. But all of the next steps are pure adrenaline, even better than coffee to wake you up and zoom out into the day.

Yesterday I ran in a local road race. What motivates me to keep signing up for races and running? I love getting outside on a daily basis, feeling the wind in my hair and the sun on my face. I like pushing my body to go faster or farther; and on other days I really enjoy poking along, simply enjoying moving.

But it’s really all about the prizes!

At the Duck Run in West Arlington, all four of us from my running group earned ribbons in our age group. That means we placed in the top three of our age group, in this case grouped by decades. I’m in the 50-59 age group, just in case you’re wondering! It feels wonderful to hear your name called, walk up to receive your ribbon, and hear the cheers from your friends and neighbors.

My 16 year old son wasn’t impressed with my ribbon, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is that I set a goal, put in the training, ran hard, and ended up with a very cool ribbon.

What motivates you to run, or walk, or bike, or swim - or whatever type of activity appeals to you? Let us know!

Saturday was the local Maple Leaf Half-Marathon in my community. Over 300 people came out in the pouring rain, courtesy of the remnants of Hurricane Hanna, to test their resolve and attempt to reach their goals.

Some were exuberant as they crossed the finish line, thrilled that they exceeded their expectations. Others came hobbling through, humbled by the hills, the weather, or the miles. A number of people told me they want to participate in this race again next year, to challenge themselves to the distance or to prove to themselves that they really CAN conquer the hills in southwestern Vermont.

Here’s what I love about this event:  you can’t wake up one morning and decide “Hey, I think I’ll run a half-marathon today.” 13.1 miles is something you have to work toward.  We have to utilize long-term planning skills to outline a training program, and short-term skills to make sure that we stick to that program when life gets in the way (sick kids, sore feet, hectic work schedule, visiting relatives, bad weather; what other obstacles can you add?).

Congratulations to everyone who finished the Maple Leaf Half-Marathon. If you can reach your goal of running 13.1 miles, then you of course can set - and meet - whatever other goals you have in your life. You didn’t let the rain or the hills stop you. What’s next on your agenda?

Last week I took our oldest son to college in Boulder, Colorado. Now, I’m used to the Green Mountains in Vermont, not the brown and rocky, well, Rockies, in Boulder. Friends told me about the wonderful Boulder Creek path that runs up into the foothills. I figured, if I can run in Vermont, I can run into  the foothills of Colorado.

I got up early one morning and headed west on the trail. No solitary running in Boulder; there were people running, walking, walking their dog, and biking. I couldn’t really tell that the trail was going uphill except for my labored breathing. That, and the comments from people coming down from the foothills that “it’s a lot easier on the way down!”. They were right!

I could never see the end of the hill, or the “top” as I was running because the path kept twisting and turning. There was no summit to hit, no visual landmark to tell me that I had made it to the top. I just kept going, trusting that I would either get to the top or my time would run out.

It turns out that my time ran out before I made the top, if there is even such a thing on this trail. I gave myself 40 minutes, and pushed it an extra 5 minutes before I turned around to head back to the car. Steadily chugging along uphill, not knowing what lies around the next corner, is enlightening and almost freeing. I think there are many parallels to this in life:  we can’t always see the “end”, but we keep going toward our goal.

I finished the run feeling absolutely wonderful with both the physical exercise and the mental freedom to keep looking up toward the tops of the rocky mountains. I’ll try to recapture those feelings throughout the next weeks as I go through my work days as well as my runs back home in Vermont.