The Old Man Is Snoring

As my mind was coming out of the daze which is sleep this morning, I glanced at the clock. 8:25am which meant it was… hmmm… 9:25am in Texas. I hadn’t even been home for 12 hours yet.

This was impressive for two reasons. I hadn’t slept past 6am for the past few days in either UT or TX. It was an extra 2 hours of sleep-in banked no matter how you looked at it.

Secondly, my bedroom sits on the east side of the house. My body is usually awakened, if only briefly, around 6:30 when the sun, despite my blinds, is blazing through my windows interrupting any restful slumber I intend to secure in the morning hours.

Why?

With both windows opened as far as they go, I felt a chill in the air. Was this because Utah was chilly this morning or because Utah was chillier than Texas’ 90 degree weather this morning?

As groggy minds usually are, I sluggishly searched for some explanations to my disoriented questions and then I heard an answer. Was that rain outside?

I lifted myself up just high enough to get a good look outside. It was beautiful. I fell back into bed and did the undisciplined. I decided to ditch church and fall back asleep. My bed owned me for another hour.

When I awoke this time, I knew exactly what I wanted to do. I had been doing nothing but eating the past few days and my body was feeling it.

I pulled on some running clothes and out into the rain I jogged.

For a little more than two miles, I enjoyed an empty nearby park to myself. There were no people, dogs, or frisbees. There was nothing but a cloudy, drizzly, open space for me. It took me awhile to get my stride going but after awhile my feet were keeping time to my iPod and little else mattered.

My toes were soggy, my socks were soaked, and my sneakers were drenched. Puddles were inevitable. As I ran, my ponytail fell out and my hair tumbled around my face. The smell of hotel shampoo filled my nose and my damp hair soon became dripping.

Mostly, I appreciated the mental time off. If you ask a boy what he is thinking, chances are he’ll say nothing and he’ll more than likely be telling the truth. Me, I’m always thinking.

If you ask me what I’m thinking, I’ll tell you about work, about friends, about places I’ve been and places I want to go. I’ll tell you about my family. I’ll tell you about my hometown. I’m thinking about things which are stressing me and I’m thinking about boys. I’m thinking about changing my nail polish, my lease being up in two months, and a thank you card I’ve been needing to write for over a week.

But not when I’m running. I’m thinking about breathing and maybe a phrase or two from the playing song. So I appreciated the mental time off. A psychological vacation.

I returned home a little after 10 and I can’t think of a better morning in the past couple of months for me than this one.