Morning Runs by Sondos

Morning Runs by Sondos - January 2019 Scholarship Essay

Waking up at 5:30 am before the crack of dawn, half-asleep as I put my running shoes on, is my morning ritual. That first gust of wind that tingles in my bones as I open the front door and hear the barks of the only awake soul besides myself, my German Shepard, Roxy. The hardest part, getting out of bed, is over. The busy streets always packed with cars and people crossing the road are not busy at 5:30 am. I do not enjoy waking up in any single digit hours. I drag myself out of bed at an ungodly hour when I know it would be easier to just sleep because I’d rather live than dream. I enjoy the crunch of leaves under my flats as I fly through the trails. I enjoy fresh oxygen filling my lungs and my pounding heart reassuring me that I am capable of conquering today, no matter what it may bring. In that moment I am free, nothing seems impossible, nothing is unattainable. Endorphins are surging, and I smile. I’ll tackle the rest of the day with a calmer mind and strong legs, knowing that no one can take those miles, that sense of accomplishment, away from me.
They wouldn’t call me crazy for running ten miles before the crack of dawn if they saw the burning sunrise flood the sky with surreal colors. It is a different painting every day that reminds me that everything is temporary; pain, beauty, this entire life and just like that it disappears masked by a blue sky. Dawn is a different kind of dark, one full of possibility at the cusp of day, a time when it’s easy to appreciate the quiet world around you. Through waking up earlier, I’ve learned to embrace these hours and keep them just for myself before the world wakes up, neighbors walk their dogs and school buses rumble down the busy streets. They wouldn’t help but laugh if they saw the baby birds fight over the worm. I am an early bird, but I don’t get the worm. I get serenity. I am overwhelmed in awe as I lean against the old tree, wondering what it has seen and how it stands with such grandeur deep-rooted in the ground, carrying so much life on its branches.
The morning run is the alone time that lets my brain unspool the tangles that build up over the day. I channel my frustration into my legs and pound it out on the pavement, and when I'm done with my run, I'm done with it. The empty, worn out feeling is addicting. On the good days I run as hard as I can and on the bad days, I run as long as I need. There is a good ache in my muscles that fill me with energy and make me proud. Those golden hours are a time to breathe in a new day and simply exist quietly. I am a morning person because I am addicted to the beautiful time of day that reminds you how wonderful life truly is. It is an addiction to the potential for life.