Cross Country, by Eric Smith

Since he couldn’t abide the heat and humidity that descended over the Mid-Atlantic region in late April, he didn't enjoy track season. To him competing outdoors on the track amounted to pain, torture, and agony—sweat pouring into his eyes, sun sapping his strength even before the gun. So he favored cross country. The season began in September, summer’s last gasp. Then October, his favorite month, gently shouldered September aside—temperatures fell, the sun shone obliquely, the fragrance of rotting leaves flared his nostrils as he ran. October allowed him to run full bore without restraint from the climate.