Wednesday, October 3, 2012


Sunrise over Abbot Kinney Blvd. in Venice

On Saturdays, the long runs require waking up before dawn. Sounds awful, right? Wrong.

I've found that of all of life's pleasures, few rival the mania of being up at the crack of dawn. Maybe it's the psychological superiority you feel over the lazy masses still in their beds. Or perhaps it's the newness of the day; How it feels like a sprawling white canvas awaiting your grand designs. 

Both valid points, but I can't help but feel it's something deeper. Being up at the crack of dawn—to me—feels like humans in their most natural state. I'm taking about ancient humans. Humans who were up and dawn because the sun was their only alarm clock and their solitary flood light. Humans who used every hour of daylight before the nighttime exposed them as inferior mammals. 

This theory is hardly scientific. But when you're up at dawn, everything feels like it's in its natural place. So next time someone lectures you about eating organic food or wearing Vibram Fivefingers, ask them what time they woke up that morning. Then go do something productive with your day.

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