I love to run. I think that is a pretty well-known fact about me. I love early morning runs, zoning out and letting my legs carry me wherever they feel like going that day. I love the way my body shuffles to get going, waking up every fiber of my being and then easing into a graceful, effortless run—or so I feel I don’t know if my running looks graceful or effortless. I love watching the sunrise, watching the world come alive with color and knowing a whole new day waits to be lived. I like the early morning sweat of summer morning runs; no matter how early I rise to beat the heat I return to the house glistening. I love those occasional midday runs when I really want to work hard and sweat. I love to push my body to its limits. I love workout days just as much as everyday distance runs. I love to call upon energy and strength, pushing myself through intervals, hills, and tempos, leaving me exhausted, smiling and satisfied. I just don’t feel myself when I can’t get out for a run. Obviously I don’t understand why so many people hate running.
I’ve been waking up very early in Hawaii. My body is just a morning body, naturally waking up between 4:00-5:30am. Yes, that is a broad range, but it is the truth. This week I have been waking up at 4:10am, so what else is there to do at that hour except go for a cool run. In Boston I would probably the lone runner, but Hawaii is a morning state. I am still always shocked to see so many people walking, running, riding, and surfing so early in the morning. I always feel safe, and I frequent some of the same paths, so I see my morning run regulars, greeting each other with happy “Good mornings”. I almost revel in the fact that before 6:00am most mornings I have gotten in 8-10 miles. For some reason it makes me feel good, and it makes me feel like I am absolutely living my day to the fullest.
The other morning I ran by a couple of shady fellas–you get those on occasion but for the most part Honolulu is very safe in the morning; there always seem to be eyes watching and police driving by, so I never worry–maybe naively so, but even so I stick to the well-traversed roads. Anyhow I am pretty sure these guys were involved in some sort of shady business so I just told myself to quickly run by, so I started to pick it up a bit more and the group stopped, curiously watched me and then one guy yelled, “Where are you going?” I turned around to him, paused myself, thought about his question, and shrugged my shoulders and said, “I’m just running.”
I love running. Some people may say running is pointless—there is no goal, aim or purpose; you just run. Yes, and that is what I love about running. You just run. And you can do it anywhere and at anytime of the day because all you need is yourself and a pair of shoes—and I guess clothes but they don’t have to be running specific. It is not a technical sport–distance running anyways. You can decide how fast/slow you want to go each day. You just put one foot in front of the other and go. You just run. I love it.
