I miss very few sunrises. In some way shape or form, I see almost every single one.
Some days it’s through the window from the pool, other days it’s a morning run, or maybe as I crest the hill on that one road on my way to the gym, or to work. I have no photos of any of them, but sunrise and I have been companions for most of my life. From the early morning swimming days of my youth to the early morning training days of my adulthood, they never get old. I rarely miss them.
They represent a new beginning, one that happens every single morning. A new beginning, a new opportunity, a fresh start, a clean slate every single morning. It’s invigorating and freaking EXCITING. Every damn time.
“How do you get up that early.” a friend asked me recently, to which I replied, “How do you stay up so late?”
As sad as I was to watch the snow melt this week, I was relieved at the exact same time. Winter was great and skiing was amazing and I learned so much. But I had an unexpected rough time in other ways. There are times in your life where you have a hold on things like grief, and other times it creeps up like a dark cloud, looming. You see it coming and you can’t even worry if it will swallow you up or just creep, but it’s there. This time the cloud got a little more of me than I expected it to.
But I did what I always do, I kept my chin up, I felt it all over again, I shed tears, I laughed, I reached out, and I kept moving. I knew the heaviness would pass and it did. You never have a guarantee of how long it will pass for, when it will rebound, or whatever it wants to do. You just have to keep your feet on the ground, your heart and head high and take it whenever it does come.
As the snow has been melting and spring has slowly been making its way through the gray and so has the light within me. With time and patience, these times pass. The sun rises and the world comes back to life again and again and again. This cycle of life is no mistake.
With my focus shifting to the marathon for a while, I get to witness the sunrise while running. Every single day it’s different and every single time I see it happen it awakens something within me. These days while I run I leave the data at home and I just run. Through the years I have learned and relearned and understood over and over again that there is nothing stronger than my intuition. I have allowed myself to get pulled to the external side of pace and numbers, and I have found that it just pulls me away from me. I need no numbers to feel strong. I need no trending data to feel the crisp air, or see that sunrise.
No app in the world can help those feelings of grief and pain pass, we have to just experience them and allow them to move through us. No app in the world can tell me how I should be feeling when I move. I move the way I need to… to feel what I need to feel.
I love the simplicity of just running. I love the feel of getting stronger again. Foot by foot, mile by mile. With brand new dreams. I don’t even call them goals because goals are too easy to grab onto. What if it were a dream? Dreams draw me to them and help me aim higher than I am likely capable of flying. I don’t care because those dreams are what have helped me learn to fly.
There are very few sunrises I miss. As that sun rises so does my hope, my faith in this world, and the promise is that a new day is before me. What was dormant throughout the winter is able to bloom again with new color, new life, new energy that can stretch out wide, feel the sunshine, and breathe big.
Just like me.