Morning Run
“Beep…beep…beep…”
“Ugh…” I sat up in my dark room, searching for my glasses, being unable to find the off button on my alarm clock without them. After some groping around, I found them between my mattress and bedpost. I turned off the alarm, and propped my back up against the pillows, staring out the window to the left of my bed. It was still black outside; I knew I could take my time. After a few moments of steady breathing I decided to finally get out of bed. I threw on some old sweatpants and a hoodie and made my way downstairs, careful not to wake anyone else in the house. I quietly prepared my everyday breakfast, a protein smoothie, made simply, with yogurt, organic milk, and whey protein. The silence of the house made me work, slow, but with newfound content. I emptied the small container of strawberry banana yogurt into the new glasses my mother bought the week before; I poured enough milk to fill the glass three fourths of the way and dumped a hefty spoonful of protein in. I mixed and mixed, trying so hard to be quiet; even the tiniest cling sounded like an orchestra tuning for a concert. Finally it was mixed just right and I swallowed it down, fast but steady. I suddenly grew afraid that the early morning dusk wouldn’t last much longer, so I quickly made my way out to the porch, sneakers in hand.
Upon opening the door, the chilly air awakened the last of the sleepy cells that were begging me to press the snooze button. My heavy eyes welcomed the brisk morning air. It was still, surprisingly there was no wind at this time, 5:15 a.m. to be exact. I preferred still air; for some reason the wind went right through me, I only preferred it while I was in motion, to cool off the heat that stuck between my body and clothing. I sat down on the concrete steps, putting on and tying up my worn out black and white sneakers. The sky was still dark, time was on my side.
I stretched quickly and modestly, and began my brisk walk up the street that slowly turned into a jog, until I reached the baseball fields about a half mile away. At the sight of the woods that lay beyond the fields my heart actually palpitated. I slowed my stride and approached the entrance to the woods between the last field and back of the parking lot. There was a hill I had to get down first before entering the main wooded area. I loved this hill. In the winter we, my friends and family, would come here to sleigh ride. Running down it at the beginning of my journey would strengthen my legs for all that was to follow. I stopped though before heading down, to breathe in what felt like home, homier than the home I just left. I closed my eyes and lifted my head. At this time all was still. It was my time to enjoy the tranquility of the woods before the animals awakened. I sucked in the air that was now becoming breezier, probably due to the fact that the ocean was now closer. Ah, the woods and ocean, two worlds that offered me peace of mind, so close together and so close to home. I smiled a grand old smile, thanking god for this new peace of mind. Finally I opened my eyes and darted down the hill.
The slant of the hill was interrupted here and there by protruding rocks and small cliff-like dirt and grass. I pounded the ground, foot by foot, darting around these interruptions being careful to keep my balance as the land got steeper and steeper. The hill was mostly dirt, an mix of browns and oranges. I kept my eyes on the ground until I got to the bottom and then I let me eyes wander to the trees. I loved this time of year, when the trees were regaining leaves. There is such a mix of trees in these woods. Some are tall with beginning branches so high they were un-climbable. Other trees were lower or slanted. The barks were basically all the same, a brown that resembled the skin of a Mexican, with ridges that ran up and down, some deep, others shallow. My eyes were everywhere; observing all that was around me, while still keeping up with the ever-changing ground beneath my busy feet. I saw the sky between the treetops. Though the sun was barely on the rise, it was still light enough to see. There were a few clouds, but wispy, not heavy enough to block the sunrise I couldn’t wait to catch.
As I neared the beach, the breeze started to pick up, and I heard the first bird of morning. That sound of life quickened my step. I came to a V in the path and decided to take the harder trail that I knew would take longer to get to the beach. The path was hillier and I darted along, jumping over rocks and darting trees. As I was turning a corner I saw something moving to the left of me, in a grassy area between the various paths. After taking a few more steps, I slowed down to see. A family of deer, one big, two small, were watching me. They looked so scared and froze in their journey, as they simply stood, watching. Distracted, I almost tripped over a clump of dirt and grass, but quickly regained my composure. I focused more on the path, and a strange, but beautiful feeling came over me. My legs felt stronger, my running turned into something more of leaps or pounces, my chest felt heavier but stronger, and I ran along with a new sense of strength and well-being. I felt like a creature of the woods, rather than a human. The path went on ahead of me, but instead I jumped into the grassy area where I could run more wildly. The centaur in me came out and with it a new pace I didn’t know I was capable of. The grassy areas were full of puddles, creatures, rocks, and more, but they didn’t slow me down.
Finally I jumped back onto the path at the end of the woods that emptied onto the beach. As my foot hit the sand I took a huge leap and purposely landed on my knees. The sun was on the rise. I could see the beginning of it. It turned the sky blue around it and lit the water all shades of red, orange, yellow, and blue. The beach was short; the sand only went on for about 20 yards before meeting the ocean. There was Staten Island ahead of me, and I could barely make out
I sat on the beach that morning for about 2 hours or so, just contemplating our awkward relationship, and so much more. I scribbled so much on that paper, and when I got home to make sense of it all, I was left with something like this:
Let Me
My sun has arisen,
but my Land, nowhere in sight.
Be my Land;
Let me spiLL my waves
of Light through your fLeshy hiLLs,
Let me turn your rivers bLue
and set fire in your caves;
Let’s spend noon beneath your trees
and make Love through the eve;
cooL off my embers
and set my wiLd eyes at ease.
You can hush my flames to a silent song,
relieve these pangs of passion beneath my breast
and join me in a brand new dawn.
Let me, oh
Let me…
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