Katy’s Sunrise Agony

Yes, I know, Thursday came and went without an update. I have an excuse though: I was too tired. Wednesday night Brittney came over and we went walking for an hour around the neighborhood (I missed my yoga class because I was in a job interview). I realized how much I miss walking with Britt. We have good conversations.

I did manage to pry myself out of bed at 5:15 a.m. on Thursday morning, and I met Yvonne at the Bath House at 5:45. Thinking I might need a little something in my stomach for energy, I made half a peanut butter sandwich and tried to eat it when I got to the park while waiting for Yvonne to arrive. I only managed two bites. My tummy doesn’t like to eat that early in the morning.

The mileage markers around the lake leave a lot to be desired, so we’re not sure how far we went, but we ran for 37 minutes total, so we think that was about 3.5 miles. It was just undarkening outside when we started to run, and still rather cool out — low 70s. We were both pretty out of it and I don’t remember too much of the specifics of our conversation, but thinking back later that afternoon, it seemed like it was so far away and like maybe it was this long strange dream that I had.

We saw downtown all lit up and reflecting off the lake in the gray-blue dawn light. The sun came up and I have to begrudgingly say that it was very pretty, which is a tough thing for me to admit — I’ll tell the story of why below. I was home by 7, which gave me ample time to shower and wash my hair and dress and I even had time to stop for breakfast before work. Most weekdays I’m not even out of bed until 7:30.

I am not necessarily opposed to doing an early morning run again. Not every day and maybe not every week even, but it wasn’t as godawful as I was imagining it might be. I was pretty tired all day and took a nap when I got home, but it was really nice to get the run out of the way early in the day.

I may have mentioned this before, but I’ve always hated seeing the sun rise. I’m definitely a night person by nature, and seeing the sun come up somehow breaks whatever magic the night holds, cheesy as that may sound. Like, “it’s over, the day’s started, time to do normal everyday things now along with the rest of the world.”

I remember very clearly when this thought first crystallized and clarified in my head — January 21, 1990. I was at a party at Bonnie’s house and we had stayed up all night. She and Ginger and Ian and I were laying on her front lawn in a square, each of our heads on someone else’s stomach, and we’d been laying there for what felt like hours, in the cold, talking and laughing and singing and saying crazy things because we were 17 year olds flying high on sugar and caffeine and we were all so in love with ourselves and each other. It was probably one of the highlights of my life up to that point, largely because super-hot, illegally charming red-haired Ian had his head on my belly. And then the sky started to lighten, and everything changed. It was like reality suddenly whacked us in the face with a cold wet dishtowel. The crazy intense lovefriendship we had going on (typical teens!) changed. It was time to get up, go home, and face whatever normal mundane things the next day would hold.

Maybe now it’s more that sunrise equates to only a little bit of time left to sleep; soon it will be time to peel myself out of bed and go to work or do chores or pay bills or whatever other soul-deadening adult tasks need to be done. I don’t want to see that from the back side.