I did some (not quite academic quality) research on the Internet, and it turns out that 5:00 AM was totally invented by Hitler. With an assist by Charles Manson. I’m no longer sure I can support 5 AM and enthusiastically suspect that it will soon be tried for war crimes.
Running at 5 AM, Part II
Clad all in black this morning and shielded by the leftover night, I was a ninja: silent, steady, treading the sidewalks with barely a pebble disturbed (also, no moths). I was invisible… except for the streak of neon yellow the shoe salesman insisted was an okay trait for running shoes.
So, a ninja with style, that’s what I was. Better, even: onlookers would be blinded by the flashes of neon yellow, leaving me yet unseen. No one knows where I am; they can’t find me; Google Maps can’t locate a healthy, jogging ninja.
… unless Google can pinpoint sounds, because then it might lead the curious to a suburban ninja whining, moaning, begging a deal with the devil or divine to (and I quote): “Oh, God! Take me, take me now! Jogging’s so painful! I’ve gone ten feet and it hurts–it hurts! I hate jogging–I hate jogging’s stupid face! End me! Tell my wife and child good-bye and just make the misery stop!”
Silent. Deadly. Ninja. Me.
Running at 5 AM, Part I
It’s too dark to run (and see) at 5 in the morning, and to prove it a moth–just getting up for its constitutional–gobsmacked me right in the mouth. “Hey now, I’m in a stable relationship,” I told it as it continued to French kiss me. “I’m not that easy.”
Who the hell was I kidding? “Gimmee sugar, powder-winged and flighty.”
Unfortunately, as many an ex can attest, my morning Godzilla breath doesn’t make for good romance, and Mothra died mid-smooch. Satisfied, I hope, but being too dark to see…