This morning I caught the sun before it went back to bed.
I often have the privilege of witnessing the early dawn sky.
Unfortunately, the reason that I am this lucky is because I struggle with anxiety, and the majority of the time it manifests itself in early morning heat attacks.
Seriously, it’s like my whole body is engulfed in flames.
Often times it’s very difficult to fall back asleep, so I instead just get up, and get a really early start to things.
So this morning, instead of subjecting Marc to my sauna-inspired tossing and turning, I slipped out of bed and tiptoed downstairs.
I sat quietly on the sofa, with a cup of coffee in one hand, and watched as the sun got up, stretched, and then lay back down to sleep, in (what I can only presume to be) its bed of rest, located just behind the Fraser River.
As someone who finds this sort of thing practically impossible (falling back asleep after getting up), I was more than a little jealous. If I only I could learn its secrets!
So knowing full well that there was no way I could possibly go back to bed (even if my life depended on it!), I decided instead to lace up my runners and go out for a fast 4.5km run.
I managed to complete my route in eighteen minutes, which is a good time for the number of hills that populate the course, and it made me think that maybe (just maybe!) I will be able to run a sub-40 10km at the Fall Classic on November 19th.
The weather was just perfect – the air was cool, but not so much to make the insides of my ears burn, or make my lungs ache. A slight breeze to bring bounce to my ponytail and pink to my cheeks; fallen leaves crunchy underfoot, while the balding trees overhead presented a delirious kaleidoscope of greens, yellows, and browns.
I could smell the magic aroma of coffee and other miscellaneous breakfast delights, drifting from the different houses that mark my path to the park and back.
Sprinting the last four hundred, a lone tear slid from the corner of my left eye.
It’s funny.
I can’t for the life of me remember what I thought about while I ran.
I’m certain there must have been a few musings about Halloween, and the party Marc and I are attending tonight.
The lovely dinner we had with friends last night.
Michael Chabon’s latest novel, currently taking up real estate on my bedside table.
My stride length, and whether or not I was landing on the balls of my feet.
A series of short vignettes, starring a sleepy sunrise.
I remember when I was a little girl, I would always try and wake up as early as possible on the weekends, because Saturday and Sunday mornings were the only times my sisters and I were allowed to watch TV.
The earlier we woke, the more episodes of Inspector Gadget, or Rescue Rangers, or Duck Tales, we could watch.
I don’t know when exactly I stopped racing out of bed, and started sleeping in, but I feel as though I have now come full circle.
I am back to being that girl, that pre-sunrise child.
I just need to make sure this is due to my love of cartoons and not the heat of a worry that’s setting my alarm.
















