Action Figure.

I went for a long run through my neighborhood yesterday morning at sunrise.  Normally, I’m a total treadmill girl, because the treadmill is indoors with the air conditioning and the television that distracts me from the burning in my lungs.  But alas, the treadmill also means I miss out on the very best part of running:  the quiet solitude part.

At sunrise in my neighborhood on a Saturday morning, there is only me awake.  Houses are still dark, newspapers wait in driveways, dogs bark sleepily from backyards.  It is so, so quiet; the only sounds are the smack-smack-smack of my shoes on the sidewalk and my one-two-three inhales and exhales.

It was just me.  Just me and the clouds turning all shades of cotton candy. 

 I could tell when 7 AM rolled around without even checking my watch, because everything started to wake up.  Cars backed out of garages and puttered down the street and the sun began to burn through the clouds.

All told, I was out for about an hour and came home aware of two things.

One: A morning run is less expensive than therapy and possibly just as effective.

And two: For the first time since I started running four years ago, I ran outside in the daylight and did not once think about how my jiggling ass must be completely grossing out the random strangers who were seeing it.

I think that’s a gold star day.