Snot rockets are inevitable when you run. The wind, whether it’s warm or chilly, hits the nasal cavity and combined with the increased blood flow causes the downpour of mucous, which can only come out in two ways, through the mouth or the nose.
Ever since I began running, I have prided myself on being a discreet snot rocketer. I wouldn’t be one of those runners defiantly snotting on street corners as if cool people don’t plank there. If I had too much snot, I would dispose of it privately with a quick wipe while batting the sweat from my brow or by firing a short burst of snot while running down a side street.
But Seattle’s fall weather, as beautiful as the natives think it is (I’m tired of all you Northwesterners telling me fall is your favorite season.), is not kind to runners. I don’t care what you tell me about how beautiful the leaves are (Just a slip-and-fall in the making) or how crisp the air is (Believe me–I know!). The change in seasons has turned my nose into a snot grotto (Snotto, anyone?), but I’m not hiding it anymore. After getting covered in forty five minutes’ worth of pouring rain and almost eating it nasty running downhill in the mud, a booger bazooka (I’m trying to expand the horizons of mucous puns.) in broad daylight on a busy street isn’t so bad.
But the extra snot isn’t the only drawback. The fall chill makes my face fucking burn! So bad some days I swear I’m Darkman. That’s why my beard has been more Zach Galifianakis than George Clooney recently. The fur is a face warmer. It isn’t just the weather though: the fall has meant more traffic on the streets, more ice on the concrete in the early morning and after work, and more school-aged kids in my way.
Just wait until winter, I keep telling myself. It’ll only be worse.