Editor's Note: This blog post was written before the Red Sox were knocked out of the World Series.

One of the ironic pleasures of the end of the Red Sox season (although, as I write this, the Sox have a firm hold on the second wild card spot and are virtually assured of playing at least two post-season games) is listening to the iconic former Red Sox radio announcer Joe Castiglione read the opening paragraph of A. Bartlett Giamatti’s wonderful essay, The Green Fields of the Mind. In it, Mr. Giamatti muses on the connection between baseball and summer; that so long as the Red Sox are playing, summer – at least metaphorically – will not end and be replaced by fall – a season of, in his telling, “rain and broken branches and leaf-clogged drains and slick streets.”

Mr. Giamatti was a wonderful writer (and the father of actor Paul Giamatti), but despite his status as a New Englander (well, Connecticut, so barely), he had a bleak and pessimistic attitude towards fall with which I and millions of other runners would vociferously disagree. Fall, with its bright and crunchy leaves, crisp air and often clear blue skies replacing the occluded haze of summer, is a season that awakens the senses. We feel the cool air fill our lungs and tingle our skin as we admire the endless vista of a million lollipop-colored trees. We hear and feel the crunch of leaves under our feet. Maybe we even have a few fall in our path and play a game where we try to catch one. And, unlike summer, when our run can only last as long as our sweat glands and whatever fluid we can carry will hold out, in fall we feel like we can run forever. When the weather is this perfect for running, we certainly wish we could. Whether we are putting the finishing touches on our fall marathon build or just beginning our training for our favorite Turkey Trot (“This is the year I will finally beat Uncle Ralph!”), we are eager, rather than dreadful, of facing the elements.

Runner (and leaves worth peeping) at Half Marathon Unplugged (October 2020) (PC Lee Krohn)

And for many us, the pre-eminent sport of fall is not football, but XC – cross country! Those of us who have attended cross country meets – whether as a competitor, a coach, a parent, or just a fan of the sport – have admired the spectacle of an XC starting line. The spectrum of colors, all in a single horizontal line, ready to be unleashed by the gun or horn, and then furiously charging across an open field, all funneled to some small opening to a trail on the other side. When competing for your school or college team, giving your all, even to the point of collapsing, is admired above all else. One can’t help to compare them to the heraldry and ferocity of medieval armies, displaying just as much pride and guts (though hopefully much less blood). It always reminds me of two great quotes:

“Quick and fast they came at last, and more and more and more.” – Lewis Carroll

"Stadiums are for spectators. We runners have Nature, and that is much better." – Juha Väätäinen, Finnish Olympian