Stumble

Running here in Jakarta has its complications. First, there's the heat. Each time I step out my front door, the air is bathwater warm - which is lovely, until I try to run. Second, there's the pollution. I've written about this before - the fumes, the grit between my teeth, and the nausea that hits me after about 20 minutes of running.

I've been running since I was six. My Dad would come home from work, and I would join him on his early evening runs. I entered races starting in forth grade. I ran track and cross country in high school. And when I had kids, running became more than recreation, it became a necessity. My therapy, my stress relief, my me-time.

But about two weeks ago, I actually entertained the idea of quitting running. At least for my remaining two years here in Jakarta. The nausea and pollution-induced asthma were making me wonder if I was doing more harm than good by trying to run. And unfortunately, I'm just not a treadmill runner (makes me go batty and messes up my ankles).

There was, however, one solution. I could get up early. Insanely early. 4:45AM early. And run before having to get the kids up and ready for school. That way, I would avoid all the traffic and pollution.

The idea intimidated me. Because anyone who knows me, can attest to the fact that besides food, sleep is crucial. I suddenly morph into Cruella Deville if I'm sleep deprived.

But I decided to give it a try. Last night, I set my alarm for the ridiculous time of 4:45AM.

The world was dark when I left my house this morning. But the streets were gloriously empty of motorized vehicles. I ran past guards sleeping on a bamboo mat in a driveway. A young man strapped ice blocks to the back of his bicycle for deliveries. I peeked inside the neighborhood Mosque and caught a glimpse of five men in white shirts and sarongs kneeling on their prayer mats. A bat flew beside me at head level for just a few moments. I ran from street light to street light and enjoyed the stillness.

As I rounded a corner, my foot caught on a speed bump hidden in the shadows. I took two lunging steps to try to regain my balance, then I skidded onto the asphalt. My right hand knuckles scraped where I was holding my phone. My knee took a beating. Again, I considered giving up running. But I brushed myself off and kept going, this time, paying a little closer attention to the road.

Then in the last five minutes of my run, the sky lightened from indigo to gray. The palm trees, gates, and houses looked black, like a charcoal drawing on white paper. And I felt that runner's high. That feeling that I could keep going.

Just as I finished my run and entered our neighborhood gate, I looked up. The sky blushed with the rising sun. Pink wispy clouds, like cotton candy, were strewn across the pale blue sky. An unexpected bonus for my early morning efforts.   

Anything truly rewarding in life, I've found, often comes with a price. To run here in Jakarta may require a little less sleep and maybe even a few scrapes and bumps. But if this morning is any indication, it will be oh, so worth it. 

4:45AM and I just might become friends after all.