Zen Time

We exercise.  Our reasons for engaging in this activity are as varied as our personalities.  As a doctor friend of mine bluntly stated “you stop, you die”.  But the other day I asked myself, as I rolled out of bed at 4:35 A.M., why at this hour, the last edge of night, not quite early morning?

At this hour:

Before the first cup of Joe – this, my natural shot of endorphins. 

Before the intrusion of the news of the world – of meteors and wars and scores and who’s dating whom. 

Before the rush - when the air is still and the noise a low hum. 

Before the hassles and responsibilities - when my time is my own.

While running, I try to focus on my breathing, on my feet as they strike the ground, on how my body feels, on the sights and sounds around me, and on my thoughts as they occur.  I try not to think about the past or the future, but try to remain in the moment.  Running is a quiet time, to think about my life and what is important to me.  It is my way of attaining enlightenment and it is my form of personal expression.

My athletic aspirations are beyond my actual capabilities, but in this world I am unaware of this discrepancy.  It is a time to dream with my eyes open.  There are races I plan to run and performances I hope to achieve.  While I may not reach my goals, we miss all the trains we don’t race to catch. 

Then to the east the aurora rises.  The older I get, the more I enjoy the dawn, the more I need it.  It is a blessing to be engaged physically, to be alive as those positive ions crest the horizon.