There was a time in my life I only ran at night. Back when running didn't really matter, except as a release from whatever post-adolescent angst happened to be gnawing at me.
In college, I used to run wind sprints barefoot on the soccer fields outside my dorm. Back and forth, back and forth, the cool mud squishing between my tensed toes as they dug into the earth. In hindsight, nothing really was wrong, but to my 18-year old self, the entire world seemed to be crashing down around me.
Running can still be a released, but those phantom demons are long since chased away and my running is a far more productive, organized and consistent force for good in my life. To wit, I even have a snap-on reflector harness that I borrowed from my brother and haven't given back.
So I set off this evening not trying to exercise any demons, per se, but just going out on a run, at night. I still get that rush, flowing through the quiet air, my legs wanting to move faster. I toned them down though, knowing that my last race of the season was just a few days out.
I felt fresh, relaxed, like I could run forever. I've had some great runs lately, and couldn't be more excited for Saturday.