This photo was taken on my run this morning. Yes, I know, “Amateur hour” and completely unremarkable (borderline trash). I took me a bit to post it as my mind raced to the incredible photographers that I follow and the word association games that I play to keep going…Bill Pevlor (Mother Earth)…Tracie Louise (Surreal)…David Wetzel (Photographer, Painter, Writer), Robert Santafede (Pause), Vicky Taylor-Hood (Home)…and many others I’ve neglected to mention.
Yet, this photo is remarkable to me in other ways. Here’s the journey on the run this morning.
I set Mr. Endomondo to the workout mode of “Beat Yourself” – competing against my time from last Sunday. (Endomondo destroyed me yesterday by a whopping 3 minutes. Heat. Humidity. Excuses. Stack them up. I can’t use yesterday as a base line. That’d be cheating…)
I strap on my Garmin GPS. (You just don’t know when you’ll need the back-up.)
5:42 am. I hit the start/go buttons on my gadgets. And down the road we go. (LaDona is training for a half marathon in Victoria, B.C. The least I can do is get 5 miles in before the thermometer hits 90°F.)
I’m less than 1/2 mile out, and Endomondo tells me that I’m 16 minutes ahead of Friday’s pace. (Argggghhhhhhhh. I must have pressed the WRONG button. BAD Endomondo! Here’s exactly why you have a contingency plan.)
I glance down at my reliable Garmin and it’s pumping along…(OK, nothing lost here. Stay the pace. Chill. It will all be OK. Breath in. Breath out.)
Rex-x is talking to me from the post this morning: “I learn more about life when I’m in it.”
I look up and see a beautiful sunrise. (I should take a picture. But if I stop and fumble with my iPhone, it will slow my time. And, what exactly are you racing to or for? Your Time? For what?)
I keep running. I glance down at my Garmin. Making good time. I shut off Endomondo because he keeps telling me that I’m 23 minutes ahead of my pace…and my pace is improving with each step…aggravating me. (Do you know that you have never just stopped? Stopped and paused. You’ve never taken a picture on your run. Forget the picture. You’ve never just stopped for the sake of stopping.)
I keep running. Keeping pace. The sun is now climbing. (You cut yourself up just for stopping. You’ve never even thought about sitting on that bench in front of the sound to look at the water, the birds, the sunrise. Take 5 minutes to lift your head up. GET IN LIFE…)
I keep running. I pass by the bench. (My mind is now chattering, banging. BANGING. JUST STOP! FOR GOD’S SAKE MAN, JUST STOP!)
I look down at Garmin. 3.2 miles. Ahead of my pace.
I stop. I take the picture. The unremarkable picture you see above. That is so remarkable to me.
I resume my run.
I finish my run…40 seconds ahead of last Sunday’s pace.
A journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step. (Lao-tzu. 604 BC – 531 BC)