Fire Rising
One of my favorite parts of running in the early morning is watching the sun rise. It's so cliché. But after spending a few years wondering how to get out of bed each morning, I often find myself drawn to beams of sunlight hitting the treetops. The contrast between the shadows and the light. How the sun eventually finds a way to touch nearly all of it. I stand a little taller...rise to meet it.
Even when my run starts in mostly darkness, the sun will be warming my sweat-dampened skin by the end. Heating up the joints and muscles and tendons and all of these inner-pieces of me that I cursed at during times of chronic pain and frustration and misery. All of these pieces are coming alive again, because I am letting them know I am going to be okay.
I don't take any of this for granted, this sunlight warming my bones or the air filling my lungs or the pavement connecting me to the earth with each step-step-step. I feel myself growing stronger again every single day. I feel the soles of my feet lighting on fire. I feel the fire rising through me and eventually igniting the rest of me so that even when my legs start to feel wobbly, my mantra becomes, "My legs are tired, but the rest of me is stronger." The fire will carry me the rest of the way.
I love watching the sun rise.