For me it means a number of things, some good, some bad.
It means that my annual London Marathon rejection letter is in its way.
The Great South Run is just around the corner, 25 days away to be precise.
The clocks go back and the weather gets worse, the neon and reflective running gear will be aired out and used in anger.
Shops will start winding me up with bringing Christmas decorations out earlier than ever, screw traditions and worship the consumer gods!