Moonlit nights are romantic, but running in the dark can get scary. When you work days and live in New England, though, it’s about all you’ve got this time of year.

I get out by day on the weekends, but during the week my only choice is to run at night, or rest. Mornings seldom work for me. 

Last winter, we had snow (Remember that? It’s cold, and white. It falls from the sky and builds up on the ground). Snow bounces the ambient light all around, and keeps the night bright.

This winter, I’m using a headlamp. I got my Petzl Tikka XP for the Presi Traverse last August, and I’ve become very attached to it. Sometimes I forget it’s even there; a few weeks back I walked into Hannafords wearing it. I don’t think it was still shining… surely I’d have noticed…

The headlamp makes you visible to bicyclists and other runners. Car drivers still seem oblivious, unless you run way out in the lane. Then they honk and cuss at you... or worse. The way people behave behind the wheel may be the strongest argument of all in favor of trail running.

The headlamp helps me see where I’m going off road, but it’s only moderately effective for lighting up roots, rocks or gullies along the path, especially at speed. The occasional ankle twist seems to be the price of admission.

Things get really strange using a headlamp when it’s foggy, or just exceptionally dark. The ring of darkness surrounding the beam can start to feel a lot like tunnel vision. When I’m about to do something that scares the hell out of me, my field of vision narrows to the point where I can’t see anything but dead ahead. When I’m running, this artificial tunnel vision sometimes makes me dizzy. Sometimes it’s a good sort of woozy, and I can work with it. Other times I have to shut the darn thing off before I curl up and hurl.