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Early in the morning

It's unlikely that you've noticed, but this blog is into its tenth year now, I imagine I'll post more about that nearer the time, but I was reflecting this morning that the guy who started writing it back in the heady pre-crash days of 2003 would be slightly bemused by the one who writes it now. The "morning" part of that sentence is key.

25 year old me did not get up early. 25 year old me went to bed very late indeed. 35 year old me, however was out running at ten to six this morning. What started out of necessity (I was too tired of an evening and too busy a crucial half hour later in the morning) has become one of my favourite parts of the day. There is a stillness to the world at the crack of dawn, those few cars that are about seem to move silently, you are aware of how quiet the world is once human noise is removed. There no dog walkers in the park yet, the playground's deserted, as I run up the path beside the church there's an explosion of song, thrush and blackbird, it's purer and clearer for being set against nothing.

So yes, I'm a convert to the very early morning. I've outflanked my children by getting up even before they do, I've had the whole still world pretty much to myself for forty minutes of just me and my brain, ticking over and sorting out the day ahead while my legs get on with the business of running. When I get home I'm centred and equable, able to devote my attention to my sons without the nagging feeling that I should be doing something else. I've done something else already.

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