Every September, around the time the school buses reappear and the morning air gets that first cool edge, I put a reminder on my calendar that reads like a riddle: “The sun is leaving. Act accordingly.” My husband thinks it’s dramatic. My clients think it’s funny. My bloodwork disagrees with both of them. Here’s the part most people never learn: the sunlight that returns after Labor Day is not the same sunlight. The equinox is a week out, we’re hemorrhaging daylight at close to three minutes a day here in the Northeast, and the sun is arcing lower across the…
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Every August, without fail, something shifts in the air. The light changes. The mornings get a hint of crispness that wasn’t there in July. My body feels it before my brain registers it — a subtle signal that the lazy, sweaty, endless-seeming summer is slowly winding down. And for years, I ignored that signal. I’d ride summer right into September, then wonder why I spent the first three weeks of fall fighting a sore throat and crushing fatigue. It took my track coach back in college — a woman who’d trained Olympians and had zero patience for my excuses —…