I’d meant to get back into 2-runs-a-day at the start of February, back into the routine I entered briefly before the Christmas holiday. I’d intentionally cut back shortly after Thanksgiving, because I’d run the only race I was going to have the chance to run and wanted to simply stay in the habit of a decent daily outing before really pounding away at building a strong base for the year.

All along, I’d planned on taking most of December to simply log about an hour a day. Then, getting in the New Year, to begin going a bit longer on weekends and ramping up the intensity/speed once a week throughout January, but still running just once a day. Those two things I did with little interruption. I’ve logged several runs in the past month between 2 and 3 hours, and have gotten some very uplifting speed work (as well as some very demoralizing speed work). I even got back into a good routine of resistance and core work in January, simply using the bands, kettle bells and Bosu ball in the living room every morning.

I was anticipating the start of running in the mornings again, because I’ve always enjoyed the way I feel in the mornings following a run. It’s similar to the relaxed, slightly spent (if not more than slightly) feeling I get at the end of 99% of my runs, but the feeling is heightened because I’ve had no other emotional toxins enter my system and it’s as if I’m simply clearing out the remnants of the prior’s day stress.

So, Feb. 1 rolled around and I got up for a morning run. However, that was based primarily on the fact that Feb. 1 was National Signing Day which, in the world of sports information, is the most stressful and packed day of the year that doesn’t involve hosting a large event or multiple games. So, my run that morning was primarily for the sake of not having to suffe through 12 straight hours in a chair without having done something good for myself.

Next morning, I figured, I’d start the 2-a-days again. But, a funny thing happened: I woke up, and wasn’t quite feeling it. It wasn’t that I was having any pain or that I was super exhausted and worn out from the day before, I just had a sense that my body was apprehensive about heading out the door that morning. So I used a bit of caution that doesn’t always win out when going through these internal debates; a bit of caution that was easier to exercise since there’s no races even penciled in my calendar for the year until the Chicago Marathon, still nine months in the distance.

So, Feb. 2 turned into another morning of core and resistance work, while I went for my daily run during lunch hour. No regret, no wishing I’d gone for the morning run, and I felt great all day. I decided then to keep playing it by ear and see when my body and mind both felt ready to get back to running in chilly and dark of 5:30 a.m. in Alamosa.

That didn’t happen ‘til this past Monday, Feb. 13. Two weeks later than I had hoped to get back to the routine of waking and running before the sun had even begun to peak up over the tippy-top of Mt. Blanca. Day one back felt a bit odd, fumbling in the dark for socks, running tights and other warm layers so as not disturb Melissa. Then groggily lacing up my shoes and searching through the storage room for hat and gloves. Almost left without a house key the first day two, which could have stranded me outside the upon returning. But once I got out the door, it felt just like old times. Taking those first steps, the first lungful of 0-degree air, has the waking power of an entire pot of coffee. As I expelled my first freezing breath, I could already begin to feel ice forming on my goatee. It was wonderful!

After only four days the pre-run routine of finding the right gear to wear in the dark and while still rubbing the sleep out of my eyes has become considerably easier. The opening strides of exertion continue to have the same waking effect. The run remains relaxed, the effort level at the threshold of feeling too slow.

And each morning I’m treated to a blue and orange glow cresting Mt. Blanca, reaching up over the Eastern slope of the Sangre de Cristo’s as the sun climbs into the San Luis Valley.

Shortly after the sun has joined un in the SLV for the day, I’m back home. I’m making it a point to not take these early mornings out too long, just for 45-60 minutes. I’m also making a point to continue with the core and resistance work, something that I’ve all-too-easily, and all-too-often, ditched in the past.

It’s a wonderful feeling to be back at it again. It’s easy to forget that even after waking an hour earlier I can feel more refreshed and energetic at the start of, and even throughout the day.