Fall's fast approaching, summer seems to have given up. Normally at 5:00 am I can see a lot of light in the sky, the tell tale signs that the sun is inching its way up the horizon, climbing westward. But not today, the sun's lazy and it refuses to get up. Slowly dragging its feet out of bed, sort of like me.
The first K is hard. I'm still rigid, sore, sleepy and fighting the urge to get a few more minutes of sleep. The days are long and I'm anticipating a long day of work. Why am I up so early. I jog onto Widdicombe, the music playing from my mp3 player's making a difference. I'm not thinking of how tough the day's going to be. I'm beginning to relax.
Eglinton's busy. Already there are cars waiting at the stop light and even though its dark, the light from the brightly lit gas station's making a mockery of the sun. The street lights are bright also. I feel safer turning off Widdicombe, from the darkness. It's a short uphill run and I feel much better now. My legs are warmer even though I'm barely four-hundred meters from my building. That's one lap around a track.
But the gods are with me an I run through the green light to the other side of Eglinton, turning right, I'm heading west on the sidewalk. There's a bicycle path, but it's too dark and at this time I don't want to run into a raccoon, or a skunk. It's getting late in the summer and those animals are big and well fed.
It's so crisp and clear and I'm inside my head with my thoughts. It's times like this that I really enjoy running. I've upped my distance. My morning runs used to be about 11 k, about a couple of years ago. And back then I felt that I was really running well. But I injected a couple more k's last year making a 14.5 k run standard. It took a while to get used to that distance but eventually I did. It would take from 70 minutes on a really fast day, to 80 minutes. And so this year I've gone one step further. 16.5 k in the morning. I pace myself well, at 5 minutes 30 seconds per k. It's a 90 minute run.
The perfect distance, the perfect amount of running, the perfect time.
By the time I come back home, 6:30 am if I leave at 5, I feel a sense of real accomplishment. My mind's clear. I'm wide awake. I'm fatigued, but in a good way. A strong way. Not collapsing at the finish line, but pleasantly mellow, relaxed. Having meditated along the way, sometimes listening to music, sometimes dredging out the problems of the previous day, the previous week, the previous month, year and even life so far. Yes, there are times when I'm bouncing along and not even conscious of the fact that I'm running. The legs are on automatic pilot and my head's free to wander.
During those runs, I often think of how I started running. Of good running routes in Mississauga. Of running in Montreal. Of running in Kenya. How each run starts difficultly, moves into quiet meditation, through tiredness, sweat and fatigue and ends up with a feeling of being alive. That this life, is the only one that we have. How do I go from physical exertion to wonders of the spirit?
As much as I don't want to think about it, I know that all of this will one day end. My legs are carrying me today, but soon they won't be able to do it so easily. So today I celebrate them, and push them past the 15 k. One day soon, I'll be running a daily 20. I only have four more k to get there. With my current speed, that's an additional 20 minutes comfortably.
Keep running!
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