An Ode to Mornings

Now, I am one of those rare breeds who, get this, actually enjoys the mornings.  I’m not the type of person who dreads the sound of an alarm at 7 AM and subsequently drags herself out of bed, rushes out the door, and unwittingly starts the day.  I am, on the other hand, enamored with the daybreak; smitten with the sunrise; captivated by the break of dawn.

Trying to explain the magic of the morning to a non-morning person can be nearly impossible.  It simply does not make sense to them why anyone would want to wake up before 11 on a weekend.  These are the people for which the 11 AM college brunches were made; the same brunch times that drove me crazy freshman year.  Here I was, 7 or 8 AM on a Sunday, ready to get my day going, and the dining hall is not open for hours.  Why would people want to start their days at 11 AM?  Half the day is already gone!  Or should I say, the best part of the day is already gone.

Here’s my theory about morning people: we like the feeling of opportunity; that the day is not yet started and the best is yet to come.  The world is sleepy, allowing time to wake up slowly and thoughtfully meditate on breakfast before entering the busy world.  Waking up and running in the morning has a calming, almost spiritual feel to it, the bustling world transforming into a peaceful escape for a few hours.  There’s nothing better than waking up, clearing my head with a nice long run on the quiet trails, kept company by the occasional deer here or there, and coming back to my whole day ahead of me.  Or better yet, going out for a pre-dawn jaunt, catching the sunrise while doing a couple laps on the track.  The best part about running in the morning?  If it’s my only run of the day: wearing real clothes.

Arguably the best part of the morning, in my opinion, is the food.  Now this may be because breakfast is the one meal I can say, with confidence, that I have mastered, but waking up to cook breakfast is as good a reason as any to get my butt out of bed.  Anyone that knows me knows about my religious oatmeal habit obsession.  Flexing my creative muscles each day to make a new oatmeal creation gets my brain going, and makes my breakfasts normally delicious (with a few exceptions- coffee oatmeal, not my greatest idea).  And after my morning coffee, I’m pretty sure my productivity hits its high point for the day.

Now that I have started semi-training for cross country, my normally slow-paced, relaxing mornings will be little by little transformed into productive pieces of my day, with a lot to get in before I work at 11, but for now, I am relishing my time to think, eat, and drink coffee in the sunny window in the kitchen.

Peace, love, and oatmeal.