early morning running

Goodbye morning

Yesterday morning, like so many others over these summer months, I woke up super early, climbed out of bed, put my running clothes  and shoes on, had a swig of water, bites of a granola bar, and headed out the door for a run. I didn’t argue for staying in bed, I didn’t question the hour, I just did it. Interesting… I’m not a morning person, not by a long shot, (a former co-worker turned great friend used to tease me about not being able to talk to me before 10 a.m.) and yet, these past few months of early morning runs, I’ve come to love. I love the solitude of no one else around. I love those silent moments of just me and my thoughts. I love the vibrancy of the night sky just before it turns to morning light. I love watching the warm hues of the sun …

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Some days…

Some days, the last thing you want to do is pull yourself out of bed when the 5 a.m. alarm shrieks from across the room. Some days, the hardest thing is squeezing into your sports bra, putting on your shorts, and lacing up your sneakers. Some days, the thought of a 35-minute tempo run feels as though a marathon was looking back at you. Some days was today. When the alarm sounded, I was dead to the world. My eyes were stuck shut, my body felt as though it was the mass of 5,000 tonnes and my head as though it had vice grips securing it to my pillow. The thought of a tempo run was not at all welcomed. I dragged my sorry self out of bed. I trudged to the washroom with my clothes and gear. I soft stepped down the stairs (no waking Little Ring allowed!). I …

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