MORNING RUN
By Alison Strand
5.20am.
On springs the radio, some song I
cannot recall. I wade through the deep layers of sleep until I
reach the surface of wakefulness. I dizzily lurch toward the
alarm clock, turning it off, plunging the room back into
silence.
I stagger out to the bathroom.......
I stagger out to the bathroom,
turn on the light and cringe at the staggering brightness.
Surely the lights weren't this bright before bed! My running
clothes are all laid out neatly, in order of how they are to be
put on, all the product of an evening ritual that has become the
norm to me now.
I struggle with the bra - it is a
crossover back one that requires way too many neurons to be
switched on at this ungodly hour. I succeed, or at least I
think I have! Fully clothed, I slip my feet into my beloved
running shoes, looking worse for wear and nearing the end of
their use by. A hat completes the ensemble. I am ready. I
down my glass of water and I am out of the front door.
It is so still in the mornings,
the wind hasn't woken up as yet, and the tall spotted gums loom
silently like sleeping giants and the stars still sparkle
confidently, unaware that the dawn will soon steal their
spectacular show.
My rhythm is found
I start running, padding silently
up my dark street. I am aware of the increase in my breathing,
and my body shouts its normal chorus of protest about doing such
action. It quietens down within minutes (it knows I am ignoring
it). Somewhere on the journey, my body opens itself to the
rhythmical enjoyment of it all, a primal urge reaching from long
ago into my present.
Alone with my thoughts
I jog along, my thoughts weaving
their usual web. Decisions are made, wrongs are righted and
worries float away during this time. The cow paddocks
surrounding me are silent with mist, large bovines resplendent
in their rest. To the east, there is a faint glow in the sky
that grows imperceptibly but steadily brighter, until there is
an actual moment in time that signifies to your brain that there
is light in this chilly world.
Then the sun makes its grand
entrance to a fanfare of pink rimmed clouds, and is magical,
always magical, and it takes my breath away with the regular
miracle of it all.
I feel so alive
I pad back into my estate and to
home. The body feels great, my lungs feel really clean, and the
mind is fulfilled. Then it is into the shower after which I am
armed and ready to face the morning onslaught of the children.
All is well.
[
Back to Top ]
|
