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Autumn jog

I got up in the darkness, again. My two children and I had started school, a few weeks ago, and getting out of bed in the total darkness has become just another adjustment I’ve had to make in my schedule to accommodate my powerlifting and running programs. Lucky, our ten year old SSPCA alum was asleep, as always, as I crept about the house, opening windows, feeding and watering the cats, and gathering up my running attire. By the time I had laced up my shoes, Lucky was stretching on the Jiu Jitsu mats, in anticipation of our morning run. I try to run on alternate mornings; changing things up between the runs and early morning powerlifting sessions.
I jogged onto the still-dark streets of my neighborhood; peripherally aware of how my stiff joints would dictate my gait over the first quarter mile of this morning’s jog. Something was different about this morning’s run, though. Even though there had been a few chilly mornings during the summertime, this morning seemed to herald the advent of something different.
Fall was in the air. I’ve always marveled at how something like a smell, or sound would bring back memories of the places I’d been, people I’d known. The strangely pervasive sense of the presence of autumn so early in the morning actually brought me back to last fall. I was compelled, somehow, to reflect upon all of the twists and turns my life had taken over the past year; the struggles and successes of my children as they negotiated adolescence, the crazy rollercoaster my own life had turned into, …
Lucky and I crested the first of several long upgrades, as the dawn was gently breaking over the Sierras, far to the east. By this time, some birds were beginning to stir, and a few of the street lights were flickering off. I glanced at my watch, as we crested the last of the hills in my neighborhood. A renewed sense of faith and hope for what the coming fall could have in store for my family and me gradually filled my body as Lucky and I made our way to the house. I wondered: Could Lucky run another mile without struggling? Would I have enough time to run another mile, and still get my kids out of bed, and their breakfast cooked? Would I have enough energy at the end of my day at work, if I squeezed in just one more mile?
I ended up running another half mile, and then did a few basic drills (i.e., side hops, grapevines, running backward, lunges, etc.) for about a tenth of a mile, the rest of the way home. The kids were still in their beds when Lucky and I came through the door. I turned up the volume on the television, mixed up the pancake batter, and woke up my kids. Life is about having goals, and plans to meet these goals. Hope and faith are the catalysts which bring about the creation and nurturing of one’s goals and plans. Sometimes an introspective run in the early morning darkness is what is needed to shine a light upon this whole process, to renew our faith that things will actually, somehow work out.

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