The alarm on Sunday is always too early. The buzz is not welcome, but it is necessary. I would never wake up without it.
As I often do, I fumble to remember where I set my glasses. Boo, who always needs to go out first thing, impatiently grunts at me to hurry up as she stretches out her long legs and wriggles her paws.
Finally I find my glasses and can see well enough to let Boo out the door.
Coffee. Breakfast. Get dressed.
In that order, and then it’s off into the chilly pre-dawn to feed some hungry calves and see what the day will bring. Boo goes with me but Calvin does not. He prefers to sleep as late as possible, so Justin is left with the task of bringing him.
Once I got going, the morning went well. Too well. I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Because it usually does. But things hummed along smoothly as I went through my chores, with not a single newborn calf to slow my progress. I would have a few hours mid-day to spare.
By 10:30 the sun was bright, and 40 degrees seemed like it may poke into the 50’s by afternoon.
Indian summer is a beautiful reprieve. After we’ve already had snowflakes, cold wind, and many freezing nights in a season, it seems several summery days will bring their warmth before winter really hits.
The runner within me couldn’t resist this day, especially since I’d been too tired and disorganized to run on Saturday.
I’m glad I waited for Sunday. It was refreshing to run in broad daylight after several dark morning jogs lately.
My legs and body were tired, but my mind felt good as I settled in for some miles.
One. Two. Three. Four.
Then I turned around to put my back to the breeze and start the journey home. Five. Six. Seven. Eight.
I’m never going to be as fast as everybody. I’m never going to be as slow as everybody. I’m just me, and my effort is as individual as my fingerprints.
I’m still learning how to be a runner. I think I’ll be learning my whole life. It’s days like today when I’m especially thankful, in running and in life, for the chance to take the journey.