Last summer, I had the urge one evening to run in darkness. It was cooler than running during the heat of the day, and I felt guilty about not getting any exercise. The air was moist and smooth, but the whole experience felt unreal, like running in a dream. Even headlights probing the street seemed disembodied from the car. When I returned home, except for being energized, I wondered if I’d really been outside.
Today, I slapped through the neighborhood in the snow. Wet snow and rain stung my face. The air was more than crisp, it cut through my clothes. The intense brightness was surreal, but in a different way than running in the cocoon of night. I didn’t last long and was definitely aware I had been outside.
What was the difference? The temperature, attitude, time? Being outside during the day in the snow was hyper-real, unlike the dreamlike experience of night. Which is why, I guess, it’s perfect for sleep.