Who knew that the sunrise came in shades of pink and orange shortly after 6 am?
Who drove through the sleeping neighborhood while runners pounded the pavement and owned the crosswalks?
Who saw the owls come in to perch when daylight brought an end to their hunt?
I have been out getting my new shoes dirty, on the levee trail, 6:30 a.m., foot rhythms on gravel. I've decided that I like the sunrise just a little more than I like the sunset. I like a little burn in my calves. And friends waiting for me at the trail head are better motivation than the tag on the inside of my pants that reads "size 12."
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