2nd Day Struggle

Yesterday began a running adventure with my good friend. As the onset of old age seeks to cripple our natural abilities we thought it best to prioritize our health and beginning running four times a week. To protect our family responsibilities we've decided on 5:30am. If you haven't been up at that hour in a while I assure you it looks like 12am or 3am and by that I mean it is pitch black. Yesterday my first comment was "do the street lights look brighter than usual"?

And so we were off and it was incredible. We ventured to the lake and marveled at the way the darkness became greater over the abyss. The stark contrast between true darkness and "darkness" that exists in a city of 3 million people and countless lights. As with many new beginnings the run was joyful. It brought a sense of hope and a feeling of possibility. We can defy old age I thought to myself. 

Flash forward to 5:28am this morning when my alarm went off (notice I won't give up more sleep than absolutely necessary) and it felt like someone was lying on top of me. The weight of exhaustion or transition resting hard upon my physical body. The thoughts start churning; maybe we can meet tomorrow, what excuse can I give, do I even care if my body depletes? And so seeming like a punishment I find the strength to lift myself out of bed. I contemplated simply going in my pajamas to lessen the required effort but decided I didn't want to harm any of my neighbors who may catch a glimpse (always thoughtful). 

All in all the run was a success. As in I completed it and am alive to tell this tale. My pace wasn't even remotely close to day one but I did finish. While I now feel refreshed and rejuvenated, I woke without any desire to move let alone run. What happened to my passion for defying old age? Where did my perseverance run away to? Questions like these make me wonder why is the second day always a struggle? Or is it just me?