April Sunday

April Sundays

I focus on and appreciate the delicate warmth of my down filled quilt as I slowly open my eyes. The pale light illuminating me and my bed is neither warm nor cold - the glow remains neutral. Opening my eyes again, I stretch my jaw to yawn. My focus hones in on the small stack of books laying next to me in bed. The same books that lured me into yet another Sunday afternoon nap. 

Unashamed of my second recovery session of the day, I gently climbed out of the wilderness blanket and rolled out of the oversized bed that remained ‘made’ despite my mini hibernation. The urge to urinate kept me motivated as I traversed the twenty carpeted steps to the bathroom. Chocolate motivated my return journey. I exercised precision and discipline handling the one-pound hunk of Trader Joe’s dark chocolate. Two one-ounce chunks remained between my teeth as I wandered back toward the temptations of my bed. 

The chocolate served me well as a lightly caffeinated accomplice. I laid down but resisted the urge to sleep, again, toward another dimension. My attention shifted from the chocolate morsels to the inviting source of light. Outside the window, the budding landscape flinched in the cold rain. Staring at the grey skies my eyes began to feel heavy. Just as I started to drift, I jumped out of bed - keeping the hypnotizing rain at bay. With the bitter sweet taste of dark chocolates still lingering on my tongue, I grabbed my camera and began gearing up for a run in the mountains.

A short drive up the sodden mountain landed me atop Burningtown Gap. I turned off the engine. A loud hum persisted - the cold rain had picked up its pace, pounding much harder than before. Forcing a smile, I cinched up my hood and disappeared south along the Appalachian Trail. 

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