Wear the right clothes and you can run in just about anything. I have run in minus-15 degrees F; I have run in blizzards at 10 degrees F. I have run in the pouring rain. I always come back toasty and warm. Our bodies are good at warming themselves up. One of the reasons I run is to be out in nature, and the wacky and varying weather is one of the funnest aspects of enjoying nature. (And besides, I know there is a warm house and clothes dryer available after my 20-minute nature immersion.)

A habit is the way to go. I decided years ago that I was not going to decide about running each day. I was just going to run first thing, no questions asked. And so I do. In rain. In subzero. In the dark.

Running in the dark, at 4:30 a.m., in 5 degrees F before driving to my daughter’s or son’s ski races two hours away makes the rest of the day a piece of cake. Counter-intuitive, but claiming my 20 minutes plus a hot shower, made the work of parenting much easier.

Running each morning before work makes work at a desk tolerable. I am an antsy, gotta-move person. If I had not built in the running routine I would feel like a rat in a cage — resenting the office, resenting being inside. The morning run mellows me out.

Running is a cure for the common cold. If I ever feel a cold coming on, I keep on running. I am convinced running makes the body better at fighting off most anything — move the body, move the cells, move the junk out of your system.

Running keeps other illnesses at bay. At 56 years old I am rarely sick. See #5.

Running prevents blood transfusions. Recently, I have fallen prey to anemia (despite #6, above) — the numbers so low my doctor insisted I head to the ER for a transfusion. When the attending ER doctor heard I was a runner and had run that morning but had to stop after one mile because my thighs were burning he determined I did not need a transfusion (that and the fact that my numbers were a bit improved). He sent me off free to join my partner for a weekend in the mountains.

Your hometown reveals a lot if you see it every morning while running. I keep the same route, mostly, down across town to the harbor, up through the village, and up the hill home. Some mornings the middle of town is deserted, other mornings a mountain of snow blocks the main road as the town crew is still busy; some mornings the harbor is graced by only one boat, usually a lobster boat headed out; in the middle of the summer the moorings are full and hundreds of boats sway on their moorings. Also, there are always birds. Count on them and count them for fun.

Consistency and a regular route makes you a town phenom. I can’t tell you the number of people who say, once they meet me, “You’re the runner who is always out.” This comment is usually followed by the question: “How do you run when it is _____? (So snowy, rainy, dark, cold?)

Traction is not to be taken for granted. The winter’s first run in the snow is such a great reminder of the importance of good traction and solid footing. When planning my footfalls I look for the places where sand or salt has been spread — you never know what lurks below the slight snow.

Expand the metaphor out — what are the conditions for a good start, a good pacing, a good footing on the life paths we choose? You see, running provides lots of metaphors for the rest of your life. And so I share this one: You will lose your footing and fall down on the ice under the snow, at least once. You will learn you can get up and keep going. And get over the bruise. And still decide running in the ice and snow is worth it.

Running makes your body a barometer. See #5. Once out the door I can tell if something is off with my body. Sometimes I can tell the symptom (see # 7) — but I have no idea of the cause. (Oh, it is the anemia making my legs burn. Who knew?)

A running habit is the best companion when traveling. How else can you pack in a quick tour of a new place or an old place revisited for non-tourist reasons?

I have gotten reacquainted with Central Park on many a quick-morning-business-trip run. And run the loop by the lake in downtown Chicago. Up and down the hills of San Francisco. The Mall in D.C. up past the White House. On vacation by the Hippodrome and the Blue Mosque in Instanbul (yes, a woman running alone there is perfectly safe). Across Roman ruins on the Greek island of Samos. Along roads lined with the wild thyme that gave the island of Thymania its name. To the cruise ship terminal beyond the granite Customs House in Portland, Maine. On the far eastern side of the sparsely settled island of Frenchboro, past a fresh deer carcass and way-too-many styrofoam lobster pots washed ashore by the running trail. All fast, fun, tours made able by a fit body and a pair of running shoes.

More Molly Mulhern

Learning to live: Our town poor

Learning to Sail: Reclaiming the boat

Consolation prizes