The leaves are falling off the trees, and if that is not the most obvious sign of the passing of summer, I am not certain how else to identify autumn. All is not lost, of course, and this is in fact one of the best times to run, I think.
Still, all those summer mornings which I spent heaving semi-clear suburban air as I pounded the pavement on warm, soothing mornings are but a memory for another year. Now, as I travel those same sidewalks each morning, I see very different sights, such as Halloween and Thanksgiving decorations, wilting flowers, bags of clippings, and most importantly, piles of leaves raked together by children. I can remember spending many an hour raking when I was little, trying to make the largest and widest pile that I could make, and all this work was for the sole purpose of jumping into it and feeling the good feeling of being a child buried three feet under crinkly autumn leaves. I was at peace with myself within these moments, and I enjoyed them immensely.
Almost fifteen years later, I am very proud to see that today's kids have taken up where I left off; they pile massive quantities of leaves. I thought I would be a mischievous runner and refamiliarize myself with the favorite activity of past Octobers. Most of the week, the majority of my run is spent in quiet residential blocks where many large trees still retain their majesty and, of course, their many leaves. There is one street nearby that has a particularly high density of large oaks, walnuts and maples, and it happens to be one of my most beautiful running routes.
Each fall, the trees become bare, but the streets become a sea of leaves, and the sidewalks a small mountain range of collected piles. This year, I thought I would rejoin my present with my past and go for another jump through the leaves. I set everything up perfectly in my mind, even going so far as to plan where I would park and which streets I would follow so that the leaves would be the grand finale of a great run.
When I got to the street, all the piles were there in formations familiar to my childhood, even though I grew up in a town miles away. All of them were inviting targets. I ran backwards several dozen meters in fact, just so that I could get up enough speed to get some really good jumps into my nice little destructive barrage, and once I reached a point where I felt comfortable starting from, I was off. When I came barreling into the first pile, there was a sensation unlike anything else I had felt in ages. I felt seven again, and in those seconds, weeks of memories returned to me.
The leaves flew up and fell back on me, I was sitting on the ground in the midst of the multi-colored haze, and I was smiling a rather large smile. I could have sat there for hours, yet there were several more leaf piles to torment. I was sure that people would blame it on the wind, for the leaf piles weren't my own. I didn't even know most of the people on the street, but I was experiencing way too much nostalgia to think as clear as I normally do.
The second pile was about twice as large and several hundred feet away. I got up, brushed myself off and stretched some, just to ensure that I could put 100% of Lorne into his next act of running mischief. I started slow, but gained speed at a steady pace so that I would be going full steam when I got to the pile. Seconds later, I was there and I jumped. It seemed that time stood still, as I was in the air heading for the leaves.
It was at this moment that I heard words which still ring out as clear as they did when I hit the ground: "What are you doing, sir?"
I was red-faced. This was perhaps the most embarrassing and awkward moment for me in recent memory, and being an experienced performer, I have had many embarrassing and awkward moments. The woman standing before me, looked at me as more of a pathetic figure than someone worth any amount of ire or anything even remotely resembling anger. I sat there, in her leaf pile, trying to compose a very succinct but cute way of explaining my presence in her yard. I stood up, calmly cleaned myself, and then proceeded to tell her how this was something I always loved to do when I was little and the temptation was simply too much and I had to do this once more for old times' sake and I would be glad to rake it back.
It was then that I heard words, which were said through laughing, so I knew that I probably did sound like a very pathetic person, even for a twenty-something freelance writer.
I heard : "Just run."
I ran off, refraining from risking the wrath of other people who might have more stringent objections to the presence of a runner in their leaves. I actually drove home and, before I started my several hours of writing for the day, tried to ascertain if there were enough leaves to make a pile that I could use for my own purposes.
So far, our trees have kept their leaves, but I will certainly be found outside soon, burying myself in the red and yellow mountains, which form beneath our large maple trees. The next day, I ran down another street that was full of leaves, but nobody had taken the time to rake them up. No matter. I reached down, scooped up a handful of fine walnut leaves, and threw them in the air as I ran, pretending there was a stream of debris behind me, just to make me appear I was going a little faster.
People drove by, watching this pathetic runner once more defy all social constraints and defy the normal perception of civilized running, but all I saw was a seven year-old Lorne having immense fun at the age of twenty-two.
I often refer to the runs that I take in the fall as "running into the rainbow," for on those breezy and cool days, leaves blow off trees and into your face and you really do feel as if you're running into a rainbow. That 's how it really feels to me, and I suppose it will have to substitute it for physically jumping into leaf piles lest I be found raking up leaves as part of a community service agreement made by the lawyers of people who REALLY didn't enjoy my presence in their leaves.
Therefore, I will make another all-important step in growing up; not trespassing for childlike fun during my runs. I'll have to have better reasons from now on, I suppose.
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