Last night, I ran a nighttime half marathon. Usually races like this occur in the early morning, which has many advantages: you get it over with first thing, your legs are fresh, you have the rest of the day to recover, it’s a good way to start a day. I get all of these things. I have run many races like this and have experienced all of these things. Life is good when you run in the morning.
I am not normally a nighttime runner. I don’t know if it’s my mother’s voice in my ear or what, but I just don’t feel as comfortable running at night. I don’t like leaving my runs until the end of the day because other things will come up, and I won’t have the time to do it. This race is unusual for me. But there is also something very special about running at night.
The course is through a golf course, outlined by green glowsticks. Everyone has to wear a headlamp because the glowsticks don’t light up the path all that well. Whenever I was feeling lonely–this is not a very large event and there were many times that I was running by myself–I looked up and was comforted to see bobbing headlamps all around me. Since the course was pretty flat, I could see runners at all different points along the course. It was like being surrounded by stars because it was so dark except for these points of light. I truly felt part of a small community as we moved through the race. We were all connected in the darkness with our own little pinpricks of light.