As much as I am a morning person, there are those moments between waking up and being up that I want nothing more than to not get up.
This morning, it was after a few grumbles that I hoisted myself out of bed, shuffling my inflamed feet to Kona's crate. Kona poked me with her nose as I stretched on the floor next to her. With a few more grunts, I remember what I woke up for. It was morning, a new day, a new chance to seize the day.
It was a week ago today that we learned of a friend's crossing. K was a kindred mountain spirit. I treasured reading about her adventures with her humans, KB and the Runner, and her Labrabro, R. Her passing has been grieved by the blogging community, though it is her life and spirit that we will all carry longer still.
Kona and I trotted into the morning. The air held a crispness unusual for Summer that eased my legs and lungs into the day's run. Clouds dotted the sky in pastel designs and I couldn't help but smile.
As we approached a series of steep climbs, a breeze kicked up at our backs. Kona peered back at me. We took off up the first hill. I turned my feet over like I was running over hot coals, swinging my arms to propel me upwards. Kona's trot turned into a gallop. At the top of the first hill, my legs burned like wasabi, and all I could do was smile. We sprinted up the second hill, then the third. At the top of the last climb, I slumped over into a full tripod, gasping for air and begging for mercy from the acid that churned in my legs. Kona looked over at me. Her tongue hung out of her mouth and her eyes sparkled with glee. The breeze kicked over our backs and I smiled again, thanking K for her reminder to seize the moment.
It's in the wake of loss and tragedy that we remember to hold dear the things we love. But seizing the day isn't about remembering to hold tight to what we find precious, it's about recognizing all that is precious in front of us.
In the spirit of K, find your precious, seize your day.