Quarrunning
Shia LaBeouf in a look I can only hope to achieve.
Something about the early morning run is hitting different during quarantine. I should say during quarantine, political unrest, daylight savings, national angst, etcetera. The last two days I’ve dabbled in a new sort of routine. Wake up with the sun, which, in Chicago, is around 6:30AM. I shamelessly open the toxic Instagram app and scroll through half-baked selfies and super spreader parties. This satiates me for the day and, only further confirms my apprehension for the platform. I sit up in bed, staring blankly at the wall, wondering what lies ahead of me during the day. As I walk towards my bedroom door, I have my habitual stubbing of the toe or trip over the hamper, before I curse my bed frame and turn the handle. I walk into a cold abyss, my apartment floor descends from the kitchen to the back door, leaving a draft under the door, free admission. I walk to the kitchen counter, where I’ve strategically placed a clean coffee mug the night before. I rationalize this obscurity by telling myself that I am helping the tomorrow version of me—he will be well prepped. I boil water with lemon and ginger, let it sit for about five minutes to cool down, then proceed to sipping. After the elixir is finished, I debate what I’ll wear for my run. This process takes anywhere from one minute to two hours. How am I supposed to run ill fitted? Once the garments have been carefully curated, I pick up my running shoes from the hallway, only to find that they’re still musty and crustaceous. My relationship with running shoes is much like the general population’s philosophy on dating, sometimes you have to compromise. I step outside my back door, where it’s the exact same temperature as my apartment. I don’t plan running routes, I instinctively move around the city, often wherever the wind takes me. No, I’m not a free spirit. In an attempt to bring this full circle, these early morning runs have been filled with sunlight, optimism, energy and, most of all, hope. Because I don’t know what the fuck the rest of the day is throwing at me, let alone the next hour.