Morning Runs (sorry for the unpleasant imagery)
You know how on Monday through Friday the absolute hardest thing is getting out of bed in the morning? It’s always too early or too cold. Or you were having a steamy dream about Thor’s Chris Hemsworth’s arms; you get the picture (but on the weekend, your traitorous body can’t sleep past 8 o’fucking clock. What the hell is an internal alarm clock, and how do I return mine?)
Surprisingly, my alarm didn’t make me want to shoot myself this week. I set the alarm tone to a different song, so I’m chalking it up to that. And until that novelty runs out, I’m going to milk it for all its worth.
I forgot how much I love running in the morning. Unfortunately, all morning runs are not created equal. December through March, morning runs are especially brutal. As soon as my feet hit the cold floor, my resolve usually weakens and I skip it all together. In April, I might test the waters again. But it’s still dark outside, which means I’m usually scared out of my mind the entire run. Which isn’t exactly the “me time” I’m looking for.
I haven’t been running as much now that I’m not training. It’s weird to have spent so much time training for Broad Street and the half now that they’re over with. I don’t miss the feeling that I have to get my miles in this week OR ELSE, but I do miss the runs (ew, that sounds gross).
So this week I took advantage of that damn internal alarm clock. Twice this week I got up at 5am (with minimal internal whining) to take back my morning runs. Before the sun has been out long enough to bake the neighborhood, so shorts and a t-shirt are the perfect outfit. Before the bus routes pick up, so I don’t have to worry about dodging as much traffic. Before the Dunkin opens, so I can run by without sleazy stares and cat-calls; scratch that, Dunkin is ALWAYS open.
I usually don’t see as many runners in my new neighborhood, so I was excited to see some out there this morning. Probably a little too excited. Note to self: waving frantically from across the street is not a welcome gesture, especially at 5:30am.
Surprisingly, my alarm didn’t make me want to shoot myself this week. I set the alarm tone to a different song, so I’m chalking it up to that. And until that novelty runs out, I’m going to milk it for all its worth.
I forgot how much I love running in the morning. Unfortunately, all morning runs are not created equal. December through March, morning runs are especially brutal. As soon as my feet hit the cold floor, my resolve usually weakens and I skip it all together. In April, I might test the waters again. But it’s still dark outside, which means I’m usually scared out of my mind the entire run. Which isn’t exactly the “me time” I’m looking for.
I haven’t been running as much now that I’m not training. It’s weird to have spent so much time training for Broad Street and the half now that they’re over with. I don’t miss the feeling that I have to get my miles in this week OR ELSE, but I do miss the runs (ew, that sounds gross).
So this week I took advantage of that damn internal alarm clock. Twice this week I got up at 5am (with minimal internal whining) to take back my morning runs. Before the sun has been out long enough to bake the neighborhood, so shorts and a t-shirt are the perfect outfit. Before the bus routes pick up, so I don’t have to worry about dodging as much traffic. Before the Dunkin opens, so I can run by without sleazy stares and cat-calls; scratch that, Dunkin is ALWAYS open.
I usually don’t see as many runners in my new neighborhood, so I was excited to see some out there this morning. Probably a little too excited. Note to self: waving frantically from across the street is not a welcome gesture, especially at 5:30am.
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