Meditations on running at dawn

I.

I ran in the morning, early.
Early early.

Earlier than usual, or should I say earlier than my new usual, which isn’t that late, but late enough to spy slim fingers of sunlight. Being out there in the quiet, in the darkness before dawn, reminded me why my old usual was so early.

It’s black then. Nearly silent. Almost nothing stirring but, without a doubt, the sun is on her way. I can hear my own thoughts, feel my own feelings, uninterrupted by the ever widening group of passersby.

Each new moment a minute closer to sunrise. Full of possibility.

II.

At 6pm I am brave.

I am energized and full of plans for the morning.

I will run, before daybreak
At the promise of the day
In the darkness before dawn

III.

At 9pm, the sun has gone, and I am second-guessing my big plans.

Surely I don’t want to run first thing on a Monday? Do I? 

But, just in case, I pull out my cold gear – running tights and all the rest.

Because even though my courage waned with the light, there is still time to sleep and wake up brave once more, and smile hello to hope.

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