I Need to Wake Me Up So I Can Go-Go

The goal:

Get in a short morning run every weekday during the summer. (Preferably without the stroller).

Thursday

  • 11:46pm – I decide that tomorrow is the day I’m going to wake up early to go for a run before Jay has to leave for work.  I put my running gear in the bathroom to help motivate me once I’m awake.
  • 11:59pm – Climb in bed and reconsider my plan.  Tomorrow is Friday – who wants to wake up early to run on a Friday?  No, there are 6 other much better days for running.  As I drift off I decide to see how I feel when I wake up, slightly hoping it might be too rainy to go.

Friday

  • 6:30am – Wake up.  Not because of the girls – no, my sweet beauties play quietly in their rooms each morning until I emerge from mine.  Sunlight was the enemy this morning.  Darn you, sunshine.  All cheery and waking me up.
  • 6:40am – I drag myself out of bed (thanks bladder) and see my running gear on the floor.  Guess I’d better do it – I’m running out of reasons not to.
  • 6:55am – I head downstairs, grab my Shuffle, and sneak out of the house. Miraculously, both girls are awake yet stay in their rooms.  I start my warm-up, a 5-minute walk.
  • 7:00am – Time to get these tired and (sadly) jiggly legs moving.  It’s been over a month since I’ve been able to run due to yet another head cold, so I’m pretty apprehensive about how this is going to go down.
  • 7:05am – I am already happy I decided to do this.  My legs haven’t forgotten what to do, my lungs are fully functioning, and even my recent ankle injury is not complaining.  I can do this.  2.5 miles – that’s my goal.  I can always turn around if I’m dying.
  • 7:10am – I’m dying.  My legs hate me.  I sound like a freight train.  My ankle still feels fine, but part of me hopes that it will start to hurt a little so I feel validated if I turn around and go back home.  But I keep running.  A really fit-looking dude passes me, and I pick up my pace.
  • 7:15am – I pass Really Fit-Looking Dude.  No, I wasn’t that quick – I caught up to him during his walking interval.  About 2 milliseconds later he passed me again.  Durnit, I was feeling fast.  I pick up my pace again.
  • 7:17am – Really Fit-Looking Dude stops to adjust his arm band, and as I pass him I thank him for helping me increase my pace.  He tells me that he’ll see me again in a minute.  He does, of course, and turns down a different road.
  • 7:18am – I’m nearly home.  I push as hard as I can, and while I do I beg.  Please, legs, keep going.  Please, lungs, keep breathing.  Please, feet, don’t step on any funky seed pods.  Please, sun, stay behind those trees.  Please, sprinklers, turn on and hit me in the face.
  • 7:20am.  I made it!  2.5 miles!  I happily walk back the 5 minutes back to my house. My beautiful, air-conditioned house.
  • 7:25am – I sneak in the back door and head upstairs to shower.  The girls are now playing together in Julia’s room, and Jay has just woken up and is getting ready for work.  All is right in my world.

Did I enjoy waking up early?

Nope.

Am I glad I went?

ABSOLUTELY.

And I think this might be the start of a beautiful, wonderful, running-ful summer.

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