I never would have thought I'd turn into a morning runner. I remember the days of Mom waking me up saying "Rise and shine!" while she opened my blinds, dancing around the room like she hadn't a care in the world (and being a high school guidance counselor she had plenty). I would mentally groan and roll my eyes and turn away from the light coming in through the blinds. I knew that I would never be that annoying so early in the morning.
Ah, that word "never". I have been proven wrong almost every time I use it. I can't say I'm complaining in this case, however. Having become a morning person and runner, I get to experience the most beautiful, magical mornings, each one different and so perfect.
This morning I set out from my house around 5:30 to meet my No Boundaries group at a school about 2 miles away. Earlier in the spring it was still dark at this time, but now when I start out I have dim, light blue skies and the hint of a sunrise beginning to peak over the horizon. It is beautiful. And peaceful. Few cars are out and about yet so I feel like it is just me and the morning enjoying each others quiet company.
I had my ipod with me so I turned to a song I'd just downloaded and I kept the volume low. I listened to OneRepublic's "Good Life" which I think is the perfect early morning running song. I really felt the words as I ran along, "Oh, this has got to be a good life, this could really be a good life, a good life...." With the colors of the sky, the birds, the breeze, the flowers, and a sweet husband and pup still sleeping at home, I looked to the sky and sent the words of the song to the Creator of it all. It really is a good life and I get to experience it anew every single morning.
I reached the 7 mile mark a little bit before reaching my house, so I stopped my watch and walked the rest of the way, wanting to stay under the spell of this beautiful morning a bit longer. I didn't want it to end. I wanted to hold onto that feeling. Walking inside would mean it was time to get ready for work and getting ready for work would mean it was time to go. And working would mean I'd have to take my head out of the clouds and focus on editing class material, helping students and instructors, talking with my co-workers. These are all things I enjoy quite a bit, but I knew they would not compare to the magic of my morning.
I stood stretching until the song (I listened to it multiple times) came to an end. The last line says, "But please tell me, what is there to complain about?" Nothing. Absolutely nothing.