There goes the sun

Cory and I up high in Rocky Mountain National Park last weekend, where fall has most certainly arrived.                     

I am ready for fall. I love the crisp, cool days. I love wearing sweaters and boots. Although it has still been quite warm in Denver lately, the feeling of fall is definitely in the air. In fact, over the weekend my husband and I went up to Estes Park and Rocky Mountain National Park for our six-year anniversary and at some of the highest points in the mountains it was 35 degrees with snow on the ground.

Yep, fall is definitely headed this way. And, I love it...for the most part.

What's not to love?

Well, fall's arrival means I'll be spending more time with my non-friend, Mr. Treadmill.

During the summer months, I get up at 5 a.m. and head out my front door for a 3.5-mile run around my neighborhood, breathing in the fresh air, checking out the latest houses to go on the market, trying to avoid early-morning sprinkler systems, and watching the sunrise as I reflect on life. It's bliss.

But, as the hot days of August fade and September arrives, the sun begins to sleep in a bit, leaving me to run in the dark. While temperatures typically still hover in the 50s and 60s at 5 a.m. during this time, I begin to dread heading out for my runs, knowing that instead of a peaceful, reflective run, I'll be consumed with thoughts of what I would need to do if an attacker jumped out of that bush over there. That's just not a good way to start the day.

So, today is September 19 and I've officially been back at the gym for a week now. It means getting up 30 minutes earlier--at 4:30 a.m.--so I can be at the gym when it opens at 5. It means running on the treadmill next to a guy who seemed to have forgotten deodorant and is watching Fox News. It means trying to avoid the random, "Hey, you've been coming here for a while" chatter from fellow early-riser-worker-outers. It means watching the news instead of the sunrise while I earn my dose of good endorphins. It means running 3.5 miles, but really not going anywhere.

It means that if I want to stay in shape, Mr. Treadmill and I are going to have to try to get along for the next, say, eight months or so.

I love fall, but I sure wish the sun would get up at the same time I do.