I woke up at 5:18.
This is not normal.
I wouldn't consider myself a morning person. When I hear Holden moan for a drink anytime after 6 am, I stumble into the kitchen to pour him some milk and then crawl into bed with him (a twin mattress on the floor in the nursery) praying he'll sleep for another hour or two.
I have a hard time facing the world if I get less than than 7 hours of sleep. (I really prefer 9). :)
So why was I up at 5 am; before the sunrise... when the sky was a eerie steel blue and the birds were a cacophony of splendor outside the windows?
I was up to run.
I couldn't stop thinking about it.
I couldn't sleep.
My training schedule called for a five-miler this morning; and nine miles next Saturday -- but I'm playing volleyball in the (Utah) Summer Games next weekend so I swapped training weeks.
So today was the "niner."
I had mapped out the run. A half mile down the hill to Wasatch Boulevard, curving around and winding up to East Mill Creek Canyon. Just over four miles up the canyon - past Camp Tracy, Milcreek Inn and then a about a half mile past the overly pretentious Log Haven. (I remember being served Quail Eggs once on a press junket ditty years ago - ugh.) Round trip - 10 miles. But who wants to end a run on an uphill? Double Ugh!
My plan was a 7 am start time. But like I said, I couldn't sleep.
So I creeped out of the house at 5:30 and got to work.
I've mentioned I'm slow. And I am.
I think I used to be decent at one time. After college, coming off the high of collegiate athletics (volleyball) and suffering from a minor (or not so minor) case of exercise addiction. I'd run five miles holding 8:30s (unfathomable at this point in my life)... But I was plagued with injuries and my head had the sanity quotient of a lead character in One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. (I wasn't practicing yoga at this time... or on Paxil.) ;)
But somehow through a lot of soul searching, therapy, western medicine, Eastern philosophy, prayer and getting by with a little help from my friends (and family); I can now run slow. Isn;t that ironic?
Letting go to just try and enjoy every time I'm out there.
And today, for the majority of 10 miles...I did just that.
Sure the first 2 miles or so, I started thinking about the crazies out there who were sitting in the trees just waiting to ambush me...do something horrid and leave me for dead.
I wasn't running with a cell phone (stupid), or ID... (stupider)...and I was running alone (stupidest).
Danny wasn't expecting me to leave for 90 minutes.. he was fast asleep and so there was no chance he could hear my telepathic message and come and save me like Edward in his Volvo (though come to think of it, Danny doesn't own a Volvo so there's more than one issue with that.)
But some how, I settled in, got to work, prayed a bit and eventually stopped thinking about it and was taken by the smell of pancakes and bacon from a nearby Scout Camp. A couple of bikers whooshed past me (yes, on the uphill) and that gave me comfort.
A saw a couple of ducks, and the other varieties of birds were quite animated.
By the time I reached the turn around (after nearly bursting into tears from excitement at seeing Log Haven "Holy Balls! Did I really just do that?!?!?") the downhill had me greeted by two long boarders flying well over the 30 mph speed limit, hoards more of bikers mostly coming up, though some coming down at this point, and even a few runners...
Turns out I was out here with the crazies after all. And I was happy to be part of the pack.