5:20am

This morning I awoke at 5:20am as my alarm went off, not a normal time for me.  I lay awake for a moment with the question I’d had before and I’m sure others encounter – why should I get up, the bed is so warm, it’s cold out there. Oddly it lastly only a short bit before I slid out from under the covers and began the rituals of preparing for a run. Somehow that seemed perfect even under the question. I’m not sure I ever answered the question of why – why should I keep up or why not stay in bed. It doesn’t even matter, but I’m glad I did.

It was still dark when I began running around 6am. There were few stars since the clouds still hung from last night. The only significant light was a far-off pink glow from Denver. I’ve done plenty of cycling at night and thoroughly enjoy the quiet and the new energies that fill the body and land. It’s been a while, so it took a few minutes to get used to the darkness and the wonder and energy it holds.

What I noticed most was how quickly I noticed my other senses with sight being greatly attenuated. I noticed this a couple weeks ago when I tried running with my eyes closed with a friend. Sounds were acute in the still, cold morning air – the woodpecker, my feet gracing the road, the ease of my breath, the whinny of a horse perhaps saying good morning or take me with you, the echoes of the train whistle through Boulder valley. I even heard a group of 3 runners perhaps a mile before I ever crossed paths with them. Every sound was so clear and full. I could feel the chill on my face, and the slight breeze pushing through my jacket onto my arms. Farm smells that wafted from the fields to touch my nose and then gone again.

Slowly the morning light came and just as slowly colors came into being. First the browns and deep reds, then the yellows and greens, all the while every color becoming fuller. The sun started to show itself about 6:50. What a crazy, beautiful array of colors – lots of pinks and oranges. The sun peeked over the horizon, then slipped behind some clouds and appeared again over the eastern horizon of Colorado to warm the day.

One of the most unusual and satisfying experiences of the dark morning run was feeling like I was part of the morning, part of the dawning of a new day in this part of the world. Not just someone who wakes with light already here, but part of the change. That’s part of life – isn’t it. Being part of this world, being human, being here. Being part of the change and growth of this amazing place we call earth. A great reminder for the day!