Wake Up and Smell the Christmas

The whole running thing is not what it used to be. Ten years ago I ran a marathon and today three miles is sometimes a struggle. But you get out there and do it. Why? As the man said when asked why he’s hitting himself with a hammer: because it feels so good when I stop.

Early in the morning when it’s dark, odors are amplified. You can smell the cigarettes people are smoking in their cars. Sometimes their smoking weed, even though it’s 5am.

Skunks, garbage trucks, wood stoves. Wet leaves, cut grass. Sometimes the smell of rain coming. After rain there’s that peculiar odor which I used to think was the smell of worms, but is actually not.

But every year you really know the holidays are here when you smell the Christmas trees. There’s a garden store along my route and every year a tractor-trailer shows up overnight full of evergreens. The store sets the trees up and strings of those bare bulb lights so people can shop at night. Then, for one or two mornings, the area near the store has that smell.

The smell of Christmas.

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