A lament,
When running in the morning, beautifully terrible things happen. Contradicting the possible magnificence of the early hours are certain grotesque reminders that things are not always as they seem. The sun slowly creeping up above the trees that overlook the tranquil Messiah track, where 30-something tortured wrestlers will never see it. The hell they endure each morning forces their eyes to focus only on achieving the next step, missing any possible chance at beauty. While the birds awake and sing, the throats of the men burn on fire with the ripping cold. The early hours of fall are colder and create stunning frost formations on windshields and windows, but cause tearing stress on the lungs which suck it in repeatedly. The body aches after each impact of step after dreadful step. The head rings with a pounding high pitch sound of over-exertion, all the while the entire campus is serene and calm…too bad these poor souls will never notice. There are two different thoughts on morning runs, one that focuses on an idea of beauty and one the knows the reality of the soul squeezing torture. So know that if you ever ask a wrestler, “what do you think of running in the morning, isn’t it beautiful?”… you’ve already set yourself up for a terrible response.
September 29, 2009