All my intentions were there. Out the door by 7AM- the clear, cloudless sky was kissed by an orange ball of sun, just on the rise off the horizon. The overpass taking me to my first right turn off the main drag brought me to my senses. My legs, suddenly awake, protesting. By the time I found my stride on Arthur, heading west, the morning opened like wind filling sails of a ship sliding out of harbor. Early commuters, ignorant of my presence, create constant obstacles to finding peace while I work on inner focus.
There is too much on my mind. I make the stop at Anderson, hydrate, and start down the road back east. I'm tired. Not sleeping well, not eating as I need, to sustain mileage, brings nothing but fatigue. But the new tunes on the ipod suddenly fill me with poignancy, and somewhere between heartache and hope the underlying satisfaction of the run settles in.
It's always the right effort when I put myself out there. All my life I have had this uncanny ability to take the risks needed to pull forward. Running for the marathon, or for the thrill of seeking out the early morning is all the same. It places me back into the vessel of empowerment which leads to the unfolding of every dream. And always, along the way, I am kissed by beauty.
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