5am Never Felt So Great

There's a knot in my stomach, the room is dark, and that stupid, annoying song that I used to love is now playing at an uncomfortable volume on my phone's alarm. Now I hate that song, because the only time I hear it is at 5am when it starts to vibrate on the nightstand next to my bed.

I quickly turn it off because by now my roommate is probably wondering why he's paying me the rent instead of the other way around for all the sleep he's missed. Now is the moment of truth--the decision that I must make when I'm not in a decision making mood (or state for that matter). Do I turn over, hit the rack and snag a few more hours of sleep, or do I jump out of bed and go for a run?

It's cold outside, windy, and you guessed it...raining.
I turn on my nightstand light and the looming poster of Billy Mills hangs above my bed. I look up to the image of the "Mighty" Bill Mills which is blurred because I don't have my contacts in. I don't need them in though because I know all too well what it says...hand signed too:

"Follow Your Dreams-Billy Mills"

Kind of ironic now that I think about it--going back to sleep and dreaming up some lofty new goals sounds rather nice right now. But I know what that poster really means, and nowhere in my personal goals or ambitions is there a clause that says, 'and by the way Andrew, be sure to skip out on your runs and get more sleep'.

So I roll out of bed and do what a lot of you are probably doing this time of year--putting in some off-season work. But I've gotta be honest, this isn't something that I do because I know others are out there doing the same thing--quite the contrary. The reason why I get up on mornings like this is the thought of all those who chose not to get up--because every day that they sleep in is another day that I gain an edge on them come Spring. Every true champion knows that Track and Field season isn't won in March, April or May, but rather in December, January, and February.

I throw on some split shorts, favorite pair of gloves and long sleeve tech shirt with beanie. By this time I'm committed and honestly hating every second of it. Shoes, socks, and deodorant follow and I'm off and running on Springville Rd. in what seems to be the middle of nowehere.

Houses are dark, dogs are awakened by my stride past their fences, and people are warming up their cars to go to their early morning jobs. It's pitch dark as I run past one guy walking in his driveway to his car to start it up. All he can say is, "You're crazy."

It's been like this since I started running when I was 14, and I don't think it will ever change. People really do think that you're crazy--especially if you're like me and basically live in split shorts during the winter running season. But now that I'm halfway into my run my body is awake, blood is flowing, and I feel more alive than I ever would had I fell back asleep and skipped out on this run.

"Okay", I think to myself. "Now I remember why I do this."

The sun breaks over the ridge into a glorious sunrise and I'm finishing my run now--walking up the stairs to my condo. I'm dripping with sweat but feel relaxed and complete. A cup of water later and I walk to my room only to see that the 1964 Olympic 10K result still hasn't changed. Mills is still in his triumphant pose crossing the finish line in first, except this time I can actually read his words.






"Yeah, yeah...you were right again Billy. I'm sure you got up a few times at 5am too."