I wasn’t always a morning runner. I’m not sure when that all changed, but overtime I found myself doing the majority of my runs before the sun comes up. Those runs define my running journey. Mornings have become my me time.
Before I head out for a run, I drink coffee and read the internets. It gives me a moment to wake up and mentally get myself in the right headspace. It works most of the time. However, there are some mornings where my mind doesn’t get on board. Go back to bed. Do the workout later. This run isn’t that important. You’ll never qualify for Boston. I lace up anyways, and count on the familiar routes to get me through.
Earlier this week, I had an easy 15km on the books. I wasn’t overthinking it. These longer weekday runs have become the norm in this training cycle. However, I was running on little sleep (blame the cat) and just didn’t have that usual pep in my step on the way out.
I decided to take a different route along the Rideau Canal. The sky was crystal clear, and the moon followed me along the way. As I was nearing my 7.5km turn around, a fellow runner pointed up to motion that the moon was still out. It was one of those moments that made me smile. We were both experiencing that beautiful morning because we run. As I ran back, the sun started to come out.
Not every run starts out perfect. As with most things, sometimes you embrace the suck. If it was easy, everyone would be doing it. As one of my favourites put it, JFR.