Sweat, Sleet, Repeat: The Reality of Running Through the Seasons

Let’s be honest: running is a year-round rollercoaster relationship

Each season brings its own mood, its own soundtrack, and inevitably, some kind of outfit crisis. Yet we keep lacing up - because there’s something beautifully defiant about running through whatever the sky throws at us, and the quiet refusal to ever be considered a “fair-weather runner.”

In this blog, we’ll look at the four seasons - their highs, lows, and the songs that capture their mood.

Autumn: The Goldilocks Zone

If running had a soulmate season, it would be autumn.

After summer’s heat training, autumn runs feel easier and faster. The air is crisp but not cruel, the light is golden but not blinding. The kit is perfect: light layers, breathable long sleeves, no frostbite or heatstroke. It’s the Goldilocks Zone.

But autumn brings a shift - especially for women. As daylight hours shrink, so does that easy sense of freedom. Evening runs mean adapting to safer routes or swapping solo sessions for group ones. Some runners move more training indoors or squeeze in miles at lunch to avoid dark streets altogether. The loss of daylight isn’t just inconvenient - it genuinely changes your running rhythm.

And then there’s the terrain. Those pretty golden leaves? They’re beautiful - right up until they turn into soggy, slippery traps hiding potholes and mud.

Still, when conditions align, autumn is unbeatable - crisp air, quiet roads, golden light. It’s fleeting, and maybe that’s what makes it so good.

Autumn’s soundtrack: “This Is the Life” – Amy MacDonald

Winter: The Grit Test

Sharp air that makes your lungs flare and your cheeks sting. With daylight in short supply, winter running is the real grit test.

The obstacles are impossible to ignore. Pavements are icy, mud hides beneath frost, and the wind seems to have a personal vendetta. Let’s not even get started on seasonal illnesses - drippy noses, sniffles, lingering colds - they make consistency a whole other battle.

Still, running through winter invites a rare kind of main-character energy. The air bites, but invigorates, and you feel genuinely proud for showing up when it would be far easier to hit snooze and stay in bed. The hardest part, as always, is getting out the door.

And then comes the reward - that moment that makes it all worth it: the sight of your front door and the pure bliss of a warm shower, followed by slipping into a fluffy jumper and soft slippers. Cosy, comforted, content.

Winter running is a test - cold, harsh, and sniffle-filled. But it’s also the season that makes you feel most capable, most alive, and quietly (or not so quietly) ridiculously proud of yourself.

Winter’s soundtrack: “Rise” – Katy Perry

Spring: The Ultimate Tease

Spring is the ultimate tease.

One day it’s warm sunshine and blossom and you’re convinced this is the start of your runner-rebirth era - a magnificent phoenix rising from winter’s cool ashes. The next? It’s raining sideways and you’re a soggy fool in shorts, silently cursing yourself for smugly, prematurely packing away your winter kit.

Still, there’s something magical - and honestly, relieving - about that first mild run after winter. The air feels soft again; and you forget what it was like to have red, wind-bitten skin.

But don’t be fooled by the blossom; spring has its chaos. There’s mud - lots of it - often disguised beneath fallen petals, waiting to send you sliding. There’s wind that turns on you mid-run. There’s rain that shifts from gentle mist to full-body assault in a matter of moments. And then there’s the pollen…

Even so, surviving winter earns you a kind of smug joy. The lighter days, the gentler air, and the hint of summer ahead are more than enough to keep you going.

Spring’s soundtrack: “Dog Days Are Over” – Florence + The Machine

Summer: The Sweat Fest

You made it. The dark, the mud, the endless layers of winter are behind you. Mornings are bright and evenings linger in the best possible way. Summer running just hits different.

There’s a buzz in the air, and the light alone is intoxicating. You see more runners out, more dogs, and everyone seems to have that little spring in their step.

But there’s a moment - usually sometime in July - when you realise you’ve simply swapped one kind of suffering for another. Gone is the biting cold and the frozen fingers; now it’s heat. Relentless, sticky, inescapable heat.

For all its golden glow, summer is kind of that two-faced friend you should probably watch your back for. The sun will roast you without mercy. You’ll set out early, under the illusion that you’ll “beat the heat,” only to be met by heavy, humid air. Your water bottle becomes a lukewarm disappointment. Your heart pounds in a way that makes you question whether you’re flying or in need of urgent medical attention. You eat bugs - or bugs eat you - and the chafing, oh, the chafing, is nature’s cruel reminder that joy always comes at a price.

But my god, that euphoria - that pure, content feeling at the end of a summer run. You stay outside, grab an iced drink, sit in the heat and just be. You soak up the warmth, the nature, the sunshine - before heading home for that glorious, cooling shower.

Because yes, it’s a sweat fest. At times, a slippery, sunburned, bug-dodging ordeal. But it’s also the season that pulls you outside, every single time.

Summer’s soundtrack: “Pocketful of Sunshine” – Natasha Bedingfield

The Year in Motion

Each season brings its own rhythm. You tweak your routes, your kit, your mindset - but you keep showing up.

Running isn’t about perfect weather or conditions - if it were, most of us would rarely make it out the door. It’s about movement, consistency, and showing up for yourself - whatever the sky throws your way.