It’s pitch dark, my blaring alarm is interrupting my dream and I can’t figure out why I’m being forced awake at the ungodly hour of 4:45 AM. Slowly it dawns on me that I actually have to get out of bed and get dressed as I remember my commitment to meet a group of runners at 6 AM. I curse myself for having the audacity (or was it stupidity?) to start a local running club, but the regrets slowly fade as I go through the motions of getting ready. Once I begin the 30 minute drive to our local track, I notice that, despite being the polar opposite of a morning person, I’m looking forward to our run.
Waking up is definitely the most challenging part (dare I admit it’s torture?), but as I think about my fellow runners going through the same motions, that’s all I need to follow through. What makes this new endeavor even more impressive to me is the fact that we launched this in January when it’s pitch dark, freezing cold, and often miserable out. I never actually thought people would show up! Yet we all arrive at the icy parking lot at 6 AM, spill out of our cars bundled up with headlamps glowing and we don’t waste any time. As we start to move, we easily slide into a groove, and it feels completely natural and totally badass that we’re the only ones out there (besides a curious skunk, who thankfully was unimpressed and moved on), headlamps piercing the darkness as we circumnavigate the track for the next hour.
When it finally sunk in that people were actually interested in meeting at 6 AM my initial reaction was, What did I get myself into? But as we continue to meet, the more I truly appreciate it and the people I’m doing it with. It’s the perfect example of the beauty of running and walking – you can meet up with a bunch of strangers in miserable conditions, and once you start moving, the conversation flows, immediately establishing a bond that keeps you coming back for more.
After just the first morning, I was inspired and motivated to a whole new level. We were all at different points in our fitness journey so we didn’t stick together the entire time, but our collective energy made it feel as if we were an unstoppable force circling the track. Seeing lights bobbing up and down ahead of me, or hearing the footsteps of someone catching me from behind, reassured and motivated me because I was not alone. In the short amount of time we’ve spent together I’ve heard inspiring running stories, shared common struggles and frustration about illness, age, and injury and have had the privilege to empathize with others (and receive it as well) all before sunrise.
Not only is this a new experience for me because of the time of day, it’s the first time I’m running with others after basically going solo for over a decade. Sure, there have been occasions over the years when I’ve run with my cross-country team as they warmed up, or with my husband a handful of times, and I have often started and ended runs with my family. But the vast majority of my running is done by myself, so at first I was nervous about running with others — especially people I never met before. Would I be too slow? What if I can’t think of anything to say? What if I need to walk? Crazy questions like these ran through my head exposing all my insecurities.
Thankfully all of my fears quickly disintegrated. If I need to walk, I walk. If I need a pitstop, I catch up after. When we’re too tired to talk, we run in silence and that’s awesome too! (It’s so cool to only hear the symphony of breaths and footsteps piercing the silence of the early morning darkness). Sometimes I run with someone. Sometimes I run alone. But we are all there together supporting each other just by being present. It makes me so happy just to see another person out there sharing these moments. It changes everything!
I feared my hyper competitiveness would rear its ugly head, but I quickly realized that pace, distance, and time didn’t really matter. (Although, whenever we run together the pace is faster than I normally run because there’s someone there to pull me along. A faster pace is never the intention, just an exhilarating side effect). I genuinely value the blessing of sharing this newfound sacred space created by people crazy enough and in love with running and walking enough to sacrifice sleep and make the trek in the dark to get together. Maybe that’s why I always loved running cross country and track and then spent years coaching the sports I grew up with. The camaraderie is second to none.
Driving home afterwards, memories from my high school running days often permeate my thoughts. Suddenly I’m 13 again, up at 5 AM ready to drive to school to catch a 6 AM bus to a Saturday invitational. I can clearly see myself half asleep in the passenger seat as my dad (also our coach) drives us to the school. Once we board the bus and daylight breaks, the conversations grow more lively in anticipation of our day of running ahead.
My mind then transports me to the track where we would meet at 2:30 every day after the final bell to stretch and prepare for our workout. I looked forward to joining my teammates to run throughout the town and trails. We held an unspoken bond that assured us we were all in this together. It didn’t matter what grade we were in, once we started to run we were simply teammates sharing our joys, fears, and frustrations. After a workout together, our problems always felt a little less daunting.
Fast forward a few decades to when my husband and I organized a running club at our former church. Shortly after forming, we entered a 100K relay. We didn’t know each other very well, but we all agreed it would be cool to get up at 4 AM to spend the day taking turns running 10Ks throughout the Catskills. We got lost, hit a deer, arrived late, and then spent the day racing and cheering each other on. The energy, emotion, encouragement, and shared stories among fellow (not to mention sweaty and smelly) runners immediately strengthened our bond. I was the only female on the team, but it didn’t matter. We were all runners, and I had found my tribe.
Now, another decade later and at the age of 53, I’m experiencing a similar feeling after our morning runs. It only takes a few moments to recognize this inexplicable bond that’s created once you start moving with others. Whenever I ran with my cross country team as their coach, I noticed the kids opening up in ways they never would if we were face-to-face and standing still. I always cherished those moments and the special bonds that were created effortlessly. I’m so grateful for all of the extraordinary people I’ve shared the roads, trails, and track with throughout the years. Thank you for motivating, encouraging and teaching me valuable lessons that will always be cherished memories. Now I’m looking forward to adding even more!
If you’ve never experienced this, I encourage you to join us or grab a friend and just start moving together. You will discover accountability, support, encouragement, and the shared experience of doing something good for your body, while establishing an invaluable bond that will continue to bloom and grow.
