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Sun on the mountains

May 17, 2010

I love the smell of 5AM in the summertime.  I love living mere minutes away from one of the largest State Parks in the country – though that isn’t tough when 50% of your state is a park.

The first steps of a morning run, the air crisp and cold on your face.  Feeling the road start to glide under you, as your body swings in the simple rhythm of a runner.  Watching as your breath forms a little fog as the steam starts to rise off my head.  I can hear the sounds of morning in the neighborhood.

A barking dog, the banging of a screen door, the early morning trucks making the rounds.  The sun just starting to touch the mountain tops, bathing them in the pink glow.  Minutes turn into moments, and those in turn become memories, that we carry through the day.

I love the feeling of alone.  That I am the only one who can decide if another trail is worth exploring, or if the lure of a shower and a cup of coffee is enough to end my moment.  The mountains call to me, and another turn is added to the day.  Breathing is heavier, legs are tighter, but still the mountains call.

I still hate running, but it’s a pain I’m willing to endure as I answer the siren’s call of the mountains.

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