Things you see

Facing a long day with a possible evening assignment, I did Thursday's 8-mile run before work. No, I don't reap the benefits of 45-degree days in February, but I get out of the vicious afternoon wind, which at this point is more important to me.

This was not the first time I'd been up before the sun. When I moved here, my sense of location was skewed enough that I didn't realize I was a mere mile from my office. So for the first month I woke up at 6:30, had a leisurely breakfast and then walked to work, getting there much earlier than I needed to. I shifted my wake-up to 7 a.m., but for the first couple weeks of January there still was little light in the sky. During my walks to work I'd have seen a sunrise were it not for the mountains, trees, houses, and campus buildings, but I won't begrudge the infringement of civilization on nature's big moment.

So I ran west from my house and crossed the bridge that spans Curtis Street, high over the train yard that bisects Laramie into east and west. At the apex of the bridge I saw the day's first light over the Laramie Mountains behind me. And ahead of me the Snowy Range was illuminated in orange. Both beautiful sights filled my spirit as I strode through the run.

At about mile 3, the Laramie River Greenbelt feeds on to a street briefly before returning to the scrubby savannah that occupies the geographical middle of town. In one yard I saw an absolutely ingenius contraption -- a mountain bike with an old-school push-mower where the front wheel ought to be. Basically, this homeowner hops on his bike and mows his lawn. Someday I'll take a camera along in the hope that this machine is still there, because it's damn sure not available in stores.

The out-and-back run otherwise finished without incident. I had the path practically to myself, save for a woman in a black beanie towing a golden lab along for the run. Breakfast, showering and stretching followed before I made the stroll to the Bureau of Mines Building, where my office awaited.

As a sidenote, when I haven't been working out with music, the song most prominent in that jukebox in my brain has been Ziggy Marley's "Into the Groove." It's more appropriate than you can imagine.