Trading Sleep for Sunrises

There was a time when I said, "I only run when chased." That was fifty-five pounds ago� many 10K's ago� four half marathons and one marathon ago. It's the norm to be a runner in Boulder, CO. I run at dawn; many women I see on the trail have been running since the dawn of time. Women who have a good chance of placing in the top twenty in any race they run-- women who have released every ounce of fat and cellulite possible allowing them to wear the shorts slit up to their waist. That's not me. I run in baggy shorts and jog bras bought at Target. I do splurge for good socks, though-- 26.2 miles is a long darn way and good socks make a difference.

I celebrate the shell my soul has chosen this lifetime. Each morning finds me yearning to hit the trail. I sing the strength of my body through running. I say yes to the power of each step� even when it hurts� even when it's early.

Dark. 5:30 AM. Right now. I set out on the trail. I wait� wait to find the rhythm that's me. I concentrate on each step� find my breath. I'm running the White Rocks trail this morning. The sun reflects in the pond; a blue heron soars from shore to island. Running the straightaway past the farmhouse, I wait breathlessly to witness the sunrise on the water. Approaching the pond� my inner chanting starts.

I chant goddess names-- draw strength from the earth-- welcome this strength into my body. Isis, Astarte, Diana, Hecate, Demeter, Kali, Inana. Rhythm matches each footfall-- chanting carries me through long, solitary runs. Past the pond-- over the bridge-- the hill looms in the distance. I love this hill�. Who am I kidding? I hate this hill. One foot� then the other�I dig deep-- call on the angels-- chant their names in rhythm. Santa Maria, Santa Teresa, Santa Anna, Santa Susanna-- help me through this one. Beside the trail the dry summer brush parts-- reveals four white-tailed deer. They witness my struggle�. my strength. I climb --head down-- focus on my breath. "Don't look up!" I tell myself. "Set little goals. Really little. Just to that rock two feet ahead. Now- that post- 4 feet away. Don't look up." The goddesses return� join the angels with each breath. Ten more steps�

And the crest of the hill is cause for celebration. I stop and gaze at the Boulder Valley. Hot air balloons rise in the distance, the snow on Longs Peak shimmers its morning hello. I bow� say thank you, god� Thank you for letting me live in this place� for blessing me with this body! Then, I set off across the ridge. This is my favorite part of the run, chants turning to meditation and prayer.

Today I open myself to all the possibilities of lifetimes�
Today I open myself to all the incantations of love.

I get to run downhill now-- I LOVE the down part! In the canyon, with the cactus, past the rabbits. (I pretend I'm in a race-that I'm faster than everyone else.) Then, I remind myself� it's not about the speed� it's amazing that I'm out here� this is who I've become! One more hill� My chanting becomes my breath-- my mind and my body and my spirit are one.

I get to the road and turn around. I'm ready for the run to be over-- but I'm only half way. Now a mirror image of the same trail-- I remind myself why I run. This is how I love myself� and this is how I worship my body. This is how I care for my spirit� and this is how I nurture my soul.

My only charge now� the charge that I give to myself� is to run the whole way back� no walking� no stopping� just running� only running. At last -the top of the hill� and now-- all down from here!

Back through the cactus canyon-- past the angel deer-- across the bridge-- past the pond-- look for heron-- watch for eagles. Turn the corner-- the flat straightaway-- past the farm-- I'm tired----tired. Cross Valmont Road, up the roadside trail-- my car� head down� breathing steady�

I'm back.

Another run. Another celebration.