A Run to Remember

Not that I am complaining in the slightest, but one of the big adjustments I've had to make since John Patrick was born is finding time to go for a run. For years, I've run on a regular basis, but it's hard to find time now, when I want to spend as much of my free time as possible with him. For example, I don't want to go for a run after work in downtown Franklin, as I often did in the past, because doing so would only allow me a few minutes with John Patrick before he went to bed.

In the mornings, I normally change his diaper and get him dressed, after Jude breast feeds him. Jude usually goes into work first. After she leaves, I feed him some rice cereal and fruit, then hand him off to one of our nannies. It's just too hectic to try and squeeze a run in before work, because we are both occupied with getting ourselves ready for work and getting him ready for the nanny.

The upshot of all this is I've not been making the time to run as much as I would like. So, last night, I decided to get up really, really early today and go for a run. At 5:05 a.m., I woke up, got out of bed and quietly walked downstairs. My running gear was in my truck, so I walked outside, got my gym bag, then came back inside, changed and put on my running shoes. I opted for my glasses instead of putting my contacts in, because I didn't want to risk waking John Patrick by going into the bathroom in the nursery/men's lounge to retrieve my contacts.

I locked the front door behind me, got in my truck and drove ten minutes to Shelby Park in the dark. After arriving at the park, I drove to the parking lot adjacent to Shelby Bottoms, got out of my truck, stretched, and started my run. The temperature was pleasant, probably in the mid-sixties. It was 5:30 a.m. and still dark. By dark, I mean really dark.

As I started out on the paved part of the trail, it got even darker. The light from the street lights in the parking lot faded quickly. I could make out the trail, as I ran, and the outlines of the trees alongside the trail, but little else. The crickets, or what I suppose were crickets, hummed loudly. After almost a mile, I turned off the paved trail and onto the grassy trail that leads to the Cornelia Fort trail.

As I neared the turnoff for the Cornelia Fort trial, it got harder and harder so see where I was going, as the trees closed in on the trail on both sides. I actually missed the trailhead and had to double back to find it, my glasses fogging up as I ran. I made a right turn onto the Cornelia Fort trail, which is quite narrow and travels through fairly heavy woods for about .7 of a mile. It was pitch black on the trail and I slowed my pace as the occasional stray branch slapped me lightly in the face.

It was strange to be on a trail I've run a couple hundred times, if not more . . . a trail that is so familiar to me I could run it in my sleep . . . yet have it look and feel so different, so completely different, in the dark. It was an exhilarating feeling, really.

After I reached my turnaround point and headed back, I caught a glimpse of the full moon, low in the western horizon, peaking through the clouds above the treeline. I ran hard on the way back, a little more confident in my stride as I covered ground I had already run. When I arrived at my truck in the parking lot after finishing six miles, I was breathing hard and my glasses were completely fogged up. It was still dark.

It was a morning of firsts, which was cool. First run in Shelby Bottoms in the dark and first run, ever I think, in my glasses. It was a great morning.