Early morning runner

The intrinsic joy and inherent satisfaction of running first thing in the morning.

As a dedicated early morning runner, I’ve trained myself to wake up a few minutes before the alarm goes off. I roll over, check the clock – 4:57 a.m. – and think about going back to sleep. My desire to get a few more moments of shuteye is counterbalanced by the need to protect my sleeping wife from the harsh buzz of the alarm. Who says chivalry is dead?  

I slide the lever of the alarm back to OFF and slowly roll out of bed, knowing the first steps of the new day are always the worst. Everything hurts and I gingerly stagger over to a pair of well-worn sliders strategically arranged next to my dresser the night before. 

Soreness is normal. I accept it as part of the runner’s life, and in truth, it only lasts as long as it takes to ease my feet into the sliders. I creep through the darkness to the bedroom door, careful not to bang my legs on the furniture. I’m shuffling now, but in an hour or so, I’ll be running. 

There’s a full glass of water and a banana waiting on the kitchen counter. The coffee for the French press is already ground. I eat my standard pre-run breakfast, and make sure I have everything I need: hydration, calories, and a change of dry clothes for when I’m finished. 

My goal is to be on the trail by 6, and I gain a small measure of satisfaction whenever my car is the first to reach the trailhead. That means I was prepared and didn’t waste any time getting ready. 

The birds are singing their morning songs and the squirrels are rustling about in the forest, sounding like miniature stampeding bison. The sun is rising over the ridge and begins to fill the trail with dappled sunlight through the leaves on the trees.  

I wake up early so I can get my run in and still have time to take our son to summer camp, and be back at my computer by 9-ish like a normal person. But really, I wake up early to experience mornings like this, when the world is still and filled with endless possibilities.