A Man Who Hates the Morning But Loves the Sunrise

Sunrise at Tempe Beach Park

I recently realized something interesting has been happening to my Facebook photos over the last few years. The drinking, partying, crazy "fun" photos of my early and late 20s have been replaced by pictures of beautiful scenery, or at least scenery I consider beautiful. To be fair, there had been quite a few couples pics at a time, but I guess I was a little early with my last two posts. While the rest of my high school and college friends post pictures of their children and families, nature has become my go-to 'show the world you're maturing' signal. If you're one of my Facebook friends, check for yourself. You won't find a single beer can, bottle, or glass in any picture I've posted in the last 3 years and probably even further back (I haven't actually fact checked this, so if you find one I'll buy you one thing under $10 from the website store).

One thing I've noticed is that the main subject of these 'mature me' pictures is the sunrise. Before I entered this stage in my life it is not an understatement that I could probably count the number of sunrises I had seen on my fingers (for sure my fingers and toes). As a non-farm boy in North Dakota catching the sunrise is actually kind of difficult. During many months of the year we were already in school by the time the sun rose. So that doesn't explain the lack of sunrises viewed during the summer. To put it simply I have never been a morning person, so my typical wake up time during summers was around 10 AM and into my high school years it actually went past noon pretty frequently. My summer jobs when I had them were usually evening jobs so that didn't get me up either. College was all about trying to get as much sleep as humanly possible when not studying or enjoying the social aspects of college life.

It's Not too Late to Get a Costume for the Weekend!

When I moved to Arizona, the sunrise got even tougher to catch considering it rises as early as 5:18 AM during the summer. For my first few years here, I did see the sunrise more often than I did in North Dakota, but it was usually because I was on my way home from a night out. The sunrise loses a little of it's beauty when all you want to do is going home to sleep after a wild night.

This all changed over the past few years. I don't recall the exact time frame when the change occurred, but I have really become a sunrise person. A major reason for this is because I'm NOT a morning person. A few years ago, I asked to push my work schedule back a little bit later. I thought this would be great for me because I could sleep for an extra hour. Instead the exact opposite happened. I began training for a half marathon in the early morning summer months somewhere along the way. This had me getting up bright and early every day to try to beat the Phoenix summer heat. I began to notice that when I walked into work I felt much better and more ready to face the day. Even though the training ended, I continued to wake up early to go walking or hiking. Basically, I realized that best way to deal with not being a morning person was to wake up earlier. This gave me the time to ease my way into the day without having the other stresses of the world enter before I was prepared.

The fortunate side effect of this new life strategy was the sunrise. I began to see it nearly every day. To this day, I still do on almost every single work day. The days that I don't get to see the first glimpses of the sun feel slightly off. It may be terrible to say, but on some days that early morning view may be the only time I am truly grateful for something that day. There are days when it is somewhat plain and boring and days where it seems like it was painted by the most masterful artist to ever exist. However, no matter how tough things get or how many other issues I have going on in my life, the grateful feeling is consistent every time I view a sunrise.

There are three sunrises that stand out in my life. Two occurred within the last year or so, and one in my very early childhood years. One was about a year ago today, viewed from Piestewa Peak in Phoenix

The second was around the same time at Pecos Park in Phoenix. It was the first one that ever stopped me mid-run just to savor the moment:

The third was one that exists only in my mind. It was probably not my first, but it was the first I can remember. The specifics are fuzzy, but that's how memories work and it doesn't make them any less real to us. I believe was a around 5 or 6 years old and my parents were driving to one of my brother's sporting events somewhere in North Dakota, we'll say it was a track meet in Valley City. This is the really strange part about memory. I couldn't even tell you now if my brother was ever in track, but that's how I remember it. 

We had to wake up early to drive there on a Saturday. I remember seeing the sun come up over the distant, flat North Dakota landscape and thinking how amazing of a sight it was. I remember remarking something about thinking this was the first time I had ever seen the sunrise. Dad teased me about it and Mom laughed. I remember sitting in the car with them laughing and joking and thinking what a great family moment it was. I remember the feeling much more vividly than the details. I was grateful that morning. Maybe that's the reason I'm still grateful for every sunrise a quarter century later.