My alarm broke through the early morning, startling me. The house was quiet and my family slept as I would get up, get ready and sneak into the darkness. For over seven years this affair had been going on, and already my mind was making excuses to not continue this morning. In the beginning my heart woke me up well before my alarm, anxious and excited. Each new morning was an incredible experience, the anticipation of meeting, the pounding of my heart, the joy of something new. I felt powerful, beautiful and like the best version of myself. My heart would beat wildly, my body would become slick with sweat and my lungs would labor with each passing moment. I felt invincible. Sometimes I would push the envelope and the allure would draw me out in broad daylight to meet. Every moment was different and I felt whole. My soul would soar and my body would respond with joy and reckless abandon, not caring what other people thought.
Now, over seven years later, things are different. It was bound to happen, as change happens in all relationships. People talked of the seven year itch and I wonder could that be what has marred this relationship. The sheen of newness has worn off and the years have aged me. Now my body waits for the alarm and rolls out of bed stumbling through the routine without joy. Could this affair that gave me purpose morning after morning have reached its end? Heat and passion have been replaced with excuses and the mechanical feeling of going through the motions. The love is still there, centered deep in my soul, but the flame of passion is gone. All relationships ebb and flow and I wonder if this is just a step, a moment to be worked through or if it is time to let it end? Do I focus on something else, stay tucked tightly in bed each morning, not daring to leave the house in all kinds of weather for those golden moments? We have struggled and we have fought, rebelling against time and fighting for what we had, but now it seems different.
I have changed. I am older and wonder about how I look and how I feel. What I used to be able to do seamlessly no longer happens, injuries, detachment and fatigue weigh me down and the relationship suffers. So much has changed since we started this journey, over seven years ago. My boys are men on the brink of starting lives of their own. I am older with grey streaks running through my hair. My body creeks and cracks more than it did, and I wonder if I am even worthy. Why did I start this crazy relationship that occupies my thoughts, pushes me and calls to me day after day? Even as questions swirl through my sleepy mind, I begin to dress my tired body just right, choosing the perfect outfit. Hidden just beyond the curtain of discipline and routine I can feel a familiar hum just below the surface. The desire surges to meet, to remember and to rekindle the passion.
Stepping outside I breathe deeply. The sky is dark, no moon to be seen and the stars are faint and hidden mostly by the clouds. My lover waits calling softly to me. In response, music races through my veins, warming my body and I take off. Ten miles speaks softly to me, seducing me as my feet kiss the pavement. Familiarity, comfort and joy tickle my senses. Houses are quiet, the birds are still sleeping and nobody is around to see us stumble or to see our struggle. The night sky and the stars watch knowingly, having experienced over 2,500 days of our relationship. The moon has celebrated the highs and wept during the lows. Pre-dawn, when darkness reigns and the world sleeps, is the time for my lover, the run and me. There are no boundaries except those self imposed. It is in the thick of this relationship I am the truest form of myself, when I feel strongest, most beautiful, most passionate. Despite this difficult season the run seduces me, accepts me and welcomes me.
As I eat up the miles I remember the feelings, the tingle and the excitement. These moments are just for me, not for a race, not for anything other than joy, passion and beauty. Stoplights blink their familiar rhythm and the tiniest bite of chilly air brushes my arms and ruffles my ponytail. My lover grabs ahold of me, whispering sweetly to my soul, reminding me. You are enough, you are strong and beautiful. We will always have ups and downs, but I will be here for you mile after mile. I remembered the thrill as passion fueled my feet and the familiar joy of being reconnected and rekindled. I waved good morning to a bright eyed cat and thought over other mornings recently where my soul was awakened.
I remember stepping outside weeks ago, it was warm by my standards. The sky was dark, dappled with the twinkle of stars and planets. My soul was craving time, I was tired and my eyes were scratchy from a restless night, but the road called. Breathing deeply I whispered good morning to the stars, set my watch and took off. My body felt angular and took a few minutes to warm up, but my shoes were anxious for their meeting. Day after day we have met, the early morning, the road and I. My shoes have changed, the weather has changed, my mood has changed and sometimes even my purpose has changed, but every day the road meets me. Houses sit back, lumbering giants in the darkness of pre-dawn quietly watching as I disturb the serene morning with the rhythmic, soft, muffled meeting of soles to asphalt. Music winds its way through my ears into my soul, coursing through my veins working to bring my body into sync. The moon is hiding, not yet rising in the east so the way is lighted only by the yellow glow of intermittent street lights and the quiet blink of red and yellow. It is early and the birds have not yet started their singing, bunnies are nestled into the tall grass, quietly watching, enjoying the chance to snuggle in. My runs are solace and this morning I needed the time, the quiet and the moments by myself. For the duration of my run I can get lost. It is only me. There are nobody else's expectations to meet, simply my own. I don't have to play nice and this is when I am the best version of myself. My shoulders are tense as the last few days burden my mind and my heart. Purposefully, 1/2 mile in, as I corner the blinking of an intersection, I breathe deeply and relax my shoulders. I will stress, other's expectations, sorrow, worry, and sadness to travel my body and escape through my soles to the road. They will be washed away, forgotten, at least for now. As I begin to eat up the miles I struggle, my mind is lost in the moment, but the last few days have seeped into every part of my body, muscles aching, mind tired and body not completely in sync. Running by the park, lights reflect off the pond, trees peek through with the hint of buds tipping the branches. No cars, no headlights, just quiet, music, the soft pad of my shoes, and the sleeping town. For these moments, everything else disappears, time stops, static disappears and my mind is at peace.
Another morning surfaces as I dance ten miles.
In the darkness I heard the steady rhythm of the rain, drumming on the roof, knocking at the windows. It was 2:30 a.m. and I quietly rolled out of bed. The morning was ready for me and the run was waiting. At a beautiful 40 degrees, despite the rain, I felt shorts were warranted. Tucking my hair into my neon marathon cap and securing my earbuds I stepped onto the porch. The streetlights highlighted the steady curtain of rain, not a drizzle, but not a downpour. The black of the sky was deep with banks of clouds blocking out the stars and moon. The only sound permeating my music was the quiet insistence of the rain. With a deep breath and a click of my watch I set out, music working its way through my system, ready for a Monday morning run. Creeks flowed across the road, down gutters and the sound of rushing water increased near drains. It was a beautiful morning and with my mind blank I disappeared. For the next 8 miles my mind relaxed and everything was at peace. Raindrops bounced off my cap, small rivulets reached for my shoes and the inky black puddles gave the impression of endless depth. My shoulders relaxed, and my mind let go of everything. My morning meeting was a stolen moment, a time when the chaos of the world didn't intrude and when the only demand was taking the next step. The steady pitter patter created ripples on the puddles and continued a creek down each of the roads, The streetlights caught the fall of the drops centered in the warmth of yellow light. It wasn't cold, but I could feel the wetness creep through my jacket. When life is full of static, when it is near impossible to escape the division and fear that explodes over every venue, the quiet of a rain swept morning is an escape. There are no expectations, everyone is asleep, houses lie dark and quiet, sheltering their sleeping occupants. Animals have crept into burrows and trees to escape the wetness and I find solace. I am a lone runner in a town of 30,000. There are days when that solitude seems monumental and days, like today, when it is treasured and welcome. My time, my escape, my moments to enjoy. As my run continues I see familiar headlights, of the few regular cars, that hadn't fallen off with the chaos. I scoot over to the side of the road, wondering if I am invisible to them. Is their mind caught in the to do list, the job, the family or whatever else and do they drive with the mechanics of a robot moving from one place to the next, not pausing to see a solitary runner. Do some catch a glimpse and wonder if I am real, a mirage or a ghost? Do they just catch the slightest movement or an outlined shape before I move from the center of the road? On the darkened streets I pole bend the many puddles, knowing my shoes will be wet, but hoping to minimize how wet they actually get. Today my body is in sync and the run is not difficult. Songs coincide with my mood and I mouth the words as I make corners, smile at familiar landmarks and scooch out of early morning risers. I love the chance to be out, no mask, no people, no worries. Before dawn breaks the town is mine, allowing me to escape, where a single thread of normal exists. Hope lies in the routine and familiarity while darkness extinguishes the constant static intent to drive me crazy. Clarity exists without fear of offending someone. Midway through the run, heading down into a favorite stretch of the run, I feel normal. Absent are fear and cloudiness, almost as if the earth is cleansing the darkness. Raindrops continue to bounce off the payment, streets are slick with water and the crosswalks glisten as if freshly painted. Drops hug branches, growing chubby with more water before plummeting down to splash on the asphalt. On the downward part of my run I race the water as it courses through gutters splashing soothingly into the drains. My steps become cautious, sidestepping earthworms as the gather on the road. Stress and frustration eek through the bottom of my shoes to be caught up in the rolling creeks running and be swept away in the drains. Grass glitters with diamond waterdrops breaking the darkness with emerald brilliance. The fragrance of wet earth and budding trees fill my senses. My soul is at peace.
Drifting back to the present and the comfort of my lover's arms I watch the sky begin to lighten. The familiar hiss and rat-tat-tat of the sprinklers mixes with the soft kiss of my shoes. Pushing through the final couple miles, heart pounding, muscles aching and body slick with sweat I realize my stamina is not what it used to be, but the relationship is the same. As I sip quietly from the Big Dipper and race the rising of the sun I believe in another seven years we will be together, sharing the beauty, the quiet moments and the stolen joy of a sleepy town. Moments I will treasure regardless of my pace or mileage. Those moments will remind me who I am, center me, give me hope and will comfort me as only the run can.
Racing to finish I know the affair won't end. It can't. Daily my heart is drawn to our relationship and the spark of rekindled passion.
