Also, my husband wanted to get on an earlier routine, and it only seemed fair to leave the comfort of our big old-fashioned antique bed with him when he tries to get up at 5 am. Moral support and such.
I give myself 25 minutes to gulp down a hot cup of coffee and let it seep into my bloodstream, and then I’m stumbling out the door with the Lab for company because I am TERRIFIED of the dark.
I am 24 years old and I am the biggest scaredy-cat I know. I have always been too cautious for my own sanity. As a child my mom could not get me to watch the Wizard of Oz because I was scared. I was that lifeguard who secretly couldn’t stand being in deep water – even the freaking pool – and despite my lifelong desire to learn how to surf, my fear of sharks keeps getting in the way. But none of these are anything to my insane fear of throwing up, which greatly contributed to my sobriety in college. I have an outrageous imagination and I overthink everything.
Every distance run I go on conquers a thousand little fears. Lord, men have it so easy – they can run anywhere they want without being afraid of getting raped if they get too isolated and pass a sketchy looking dude. Do they have any idea how awesome that is??
But so my early morning runs are epic adventures that make me a little bit braver, and break some of that monotony that creeps into daily runs with their excitement.
To Pandora: you are a life ruiner and I despise you. And until “Sinister” is done in theaters I will be no longer listening to you as I run – in the dark – thanks to the 4 undeserved scares I received as I tried to go cautiously about my run. I just wanted to listen to Mumford plus Coldplay!