He woke up before everyone else, at the crack of dawn, or at least when his alarm went off. It wasn’t like he wanted to be the first to open presents, as if there were any to be opened. He wanted to get in a Christmas morning run.
The Eve didn’t go as planned, leaving feeling a bit hurt, and low, and pained. He always felt like an outsider, an oddity. All this left him a bitter feeling that he so desperately needed to shake off, and running was his therapy, just what he needed.
The air outside had a slight chill as he passed by people getting on with their morning chores, heading to their jobs. The flags, gently waving against the blue skies, reminding him that he was not in Kansas anymore, so there were rules to be followed. The sun lit up the skyline, giving the sky an orangish tinge, as buildings raced each other to touch the sky.
He continued to run, knowing that he had to put last night behind, and today was a brand new day, and this morning scenes reminded just that.
When he finally reached the beach, he caught sight of few runners getting in their morning run, so he didn’t feel like an oddity. Morning seemed like the perfect time to be here, not too much sun, not too cold, just right. But most importantly there weren’t many, any, people so that allowed him to run freely. It allowed him to be a running tourist, clicking himself and the numerous graffitis and cafe.
And though he wanted to do a good steady run, he couldn’t himself to stop and click, to be a tourist, be a bit narcissistic and click numerous pics of yourself.
And while you indulge yourself in a bit of photography, a bit or running therapy, you put the worries of the previous night behind you, ready to face another day, happy for the Christmas Morning Run.
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