An Ode to Morning Practice

My alarm went off at 5:45, and I quick hopped out of bed, shut it off, grabbed my prepared backpack, and swept out the door. The air was damp and muggy, a sign of the hot day to come. The streets were cautiously quiet, and a few early morning (or potentially late night) vehicles lit up the road. I wasn't tired at this point because I was amped for practice.

Upon arriving at the Hyslop I was surprised by how many vehicles were already in the parking lot. I figured that some of them were swimmers, because they always seem to have morning practice. I scurried inside where I could see not only half of my team ready to run, but the ROTC program at UND doing their conditioning. My my how busy it can be at 6am. I threw on a pair of shorts and no shirt and came out with the team. Some of the group looked tired, but most people looked awake and ready to go. I couldn't help but think of how this can be considered almost a bonding exercise rather than a workout, because everybody is making the same sacrifice. There is a sense of accountability relevant to the whole team when practice comes up in early- it's as if we understand each other.

We began running down the gravel train tracks, the sun still a little too tired to wake up, and the fog starting to come in. I couldn't tell if it was raining, or if it was just that humid. Maybe that's why the sun didn't want to come out yet.

We arrived at University Park to an eerie view. No people, limited light, no wind, and fog settling over the area. Our tempo workout began and seemed to go pretty well. Most people complained that their muscles were having difficulty waking up to the pace, and times suffered accordingly. I'm still proud of the guys for all the work they've been putting in and I know this is going to be a good year.

We finished and the one thing we all had in common was sweat. I was without a dry spot on my body, and in fact my running shorts were dripping onto the back of my legs. My shoes were wet from the dew in the grass, and everybody else was in the same boat. We looked around at each other, enclosed in this world that we created early in the morning, with nobody watching.

We jogged back to the Hyslop as the sun was beginning to get out of bed. As expected, so was everybody else, and the roads were beginning to fill up. We promptly headed over to weightlifting to get absolutely jacked stronger for the season, and called it a morning after more than 2 hours of work. I can't help but go through the rest of my day with a sense of pride about accomplishing an early morning feat, much like I feel every day I'm up early training (i.e. every day all summer). I think that this is not specific to running, but to everybody. Most people will acknowledge that getting up even 30 minutes earlier than normal to work out, read, or do something else feel more refreshed and ready for the day than if they had simply hopped out of bed. Now, I'm not saying that sitting through lecture was any easier, but it does help the day move along better when the hard work is put away early in the morning.

So now it's afternoon, and it's hot out. All of the dew has evaporated from the park, our footprints gone. The sweat from the morning has disappeared, and the runners have all gone their separate ways. The physical evidence of the morning workout is not to be found at the park, the athletics building, the weight room, or the locker rooms. To the city of Grand Forks, we weren't even there. No, the physical evidence comes later in the season when workouts start showing up in races. The evidence will appear on race results. The runners themselves will feel it as they become more fit. One must endure sacrifice to achieve a goal.

So this is an ode to all you early-morning and late-night trainers. The alarm clock can be your worst enemy, and at times the loneliness of the morning or evening can be overwhelming. However, that's when some of the best work gets done. Keep grinding.