Yesterday morning was one of those rare mornings in which my entire run was in the dark and there was very little wind. I decided to run along the Lake, one of my favorite places to run. I had to get up early to fit my 8.5 miler in before returning home for the usual weekday morning hustle and bustle and was looking to just get the run completed before today's 20 miler.
Approximately a mile in, I knew this run was going to be different. I wasn't feeling all that awesome or all that horrible and the weather was kind of ho hum, but the moment I spotted the ore ship docked in the lower harbor I just had a different feeling about the day. It was lit up like the biggest Christmas tree I had ever seen and the spotlight was shining across the harbor to the light at the end of the break wall. I could see the beam of light as it stretched across the harbor and everything was so still and quiet. It was early enough that I had almost the entire route to myself--I only saw 2 walkers and a dozen or so cars the entire time I was out there. It was so calm that there were no waves and the Lake was practically a sheet of glass. That spotlight reflected on the harbor in an eerily kind of mirror. As I rounded the corner by the coast guard station I could no longer see the ship or it's beacon above the Lake. I ran on for another mile and a half until I turned around to head home. Immediately upon turning around I could see the ship (to my surprise) and quickly realized it had already left port. Then I noticed that I could see a glow on the horizon, which was another ship. I could not see the lights of town and the upper harbor dock was behind me. Suddenly I had a sense of what it must have been like to be or live along this great lake 100 years ago. No sound of a car, no sound of people, not even the sound of the Lake. I couldn't really see the Lake at that point because it was so dark. It was just me, the darkness and knowing this beautiful lake was out there under that big ship. Within the next mile and a half the ship had moved so far offshore that I could barely see the glow of its lights and within the next half mile it was gone. Just like that, in less than an hour that spotlight was gone and the ship had moved on.
I'm not sure how to describe the feeling I had from the experience. Most people would just say it was a ship on the Lake . . . wow (likely with sarcasm). And I'm not really looking for a metaphor from the experience but quite honestly it was beautiful and peaceful and kind of awe-inspiring. In short, just what I needed to start the day and a big reminder of why I love to run so much.