The Morning Run

I have been running on and off for the past 20+ years, completing my first San Francisco Bay to the Breakers in 1997.  Back then, I could run at any time throughout the day.  While I was busy (or at least I thought I was), the range of responsibilities paled in comparison to those in years that followed.  Over time, it became eminently clear that if I was going to hit the pavement (or trail), it would need to happen early in the morning, sometimes before sunrise, but in any event before the rest of the house had gotten up.  With the exception of the uneven pavement that once in a while did not catch my eye, usually this worked quite well. I was able to organize my day and witness more than a few spectacular sunrises.

I became more systematic with my morning runs.

While on vacation or business, I made it a point to get a run in early in the morning.  I was in New York City, on business, in August 2012.  For a split second, I considered the treadmill at the hotel gym, but that would have been apostasy.  Central Park, about a mile away, beckoned. The prospect of running through one of the greatest cities in the world, as it was waking up, on a perfectly clear morning following a torrential downpour, was simply irresistible.

Runners filled the park, even at 6am.  Vendors were setting up their wares outside the Metropolitan Museum of Art.  A new day had begun.  While only 4 miles, the run was long enough for me to organize my day, prioritize, and feel the pulse of the city.  After the run, I stopped by the hotel gym for some water, eyed the row of occupied treadmills, and confirmed my decision.

A short vacation followed my business trip.  I logged morning runs in Boston and Old Orchard Beach, Maine, along the gorgeous 7-mile beach, followed by an invigorating swim in the aquamarine waters of Saco Bay.  Of course, not all the morning runs that followed were as picturesque or inspiring, but I made it a point to bring my running shoes on every business trip and vacation and to experience each city as it was waking up.

My morning runs have taken me through the streets and trails in and around Peoria, Goleta, Tucson, Tokyo, London (Hyde Park, above), Oslo, and Galway, among other locales.  I traversed the somnolent streets of Honolulu, rounding Diamond Head, before seeing the sun rise on the downward return slope to Waikiki. While the blossoms were no longer in bloom, and despite a light rain, one run in Washington D.C. was nothing short of inspiring, especially when the Washington Monument came into view, as I rounded and started descending Capitol Hill. Another morning run in DC was more practical; when I arrived to stand in line for tickets to the Bureau of Engraving and Printing, I found other husbands, equally panting, who had similarly been sent on runs by their spouses to pick up tickets.  Misery must love company.

To me, the most satisfying part of running (and more broadly, anything in general) is finding a rhythm, a groove.  This can happen in the first few miles, or not until mile 7 or 8, when everything is aligned and running is effortless.  When I ran the San Francisco Rock-and-Roll Half Marathon, another memorable morning run, I found this pocket at the end of the out-and-back at the Golden Gate Bridge, with the city in full view and waking up from its grey slumber.

There is no better way to connect with a new city, or to reconnect with a familiar one, than to run it, especially early in the morning, as it is coming to life.  Let me know about your favorite morning run.

Comments welcomed.