A Breath of Fresh Air

6 a.m.

Reluctant to crawl out of my warm bed, I remind myself why I'm getting up so early - restarting a tradition of many years past. Throwing the covers off and dressing was easier at the first image, the first memory of what I had come to love, of what had once been a necessity for me to even consider getting out of bed before eight - a morning run.

Not sure if the weather is living up to its expectations, I throw on tights, spandex, shorts. Performance shirt, white tee, socks and my beloved sneakers. I glance toward the clock for a mere reference point, walk out the door, and lock it behind me.

6:15 a.m.

First dilemma was where to run, but the first brisk breeze was far too sweet to resist, so I set off, caring little about a destination, my body aching only to rush with the wind.

Hard asphalt at my feet, beating in rhythm with my chest, breathing slow and even. Cars passing, neighbors leaving. A slight drizzle begins, splashing cool water on my face and mixing with the sweat forming at my temples.

At the round-about now, I turn to the left, toward the bus stop I've grown so familiar with. Looking upward, I glimpse the words "je t'aime Naomie," re-blackened with ink, etched across LAVOIR. Smiling at the simple pleasures, I run on.

Five blocks later, to the right, for the sake of balance. More traffic now, rain still a light mist, now a mélange with the beads of perspiration running down my face.

Fresh air, running through my lungs. I am awake. I feel more alive than ever.

6:50 a.m.

Dawn begins peaking up over the ridge, lighting the town before it. Raindrops quicken, soften, cease. Cars buzz by, matching the hum of my feet, chest, breath. I turn back toward my house, ready for the new day.

7:20 a.m.

Back inside, the world still asleep. Already satisfied with Monday's beginning, I take one last breath and am ready to take on the day.

[p.s. more to come about real things, but this needed out now.]

"You're alive. Do something. The directive in life, the moral imperative was so uncomplicated. It could be expressed in single words, not complete sentences. It sounded like this: Look. Listen. Choose. Act."

Barbara Hall