I'm really not a runner, but I may be becoming one...

As I set out for my long run in the pre-dawn hours, my mind began to wander. I started thinking about all of the times in my life that I'd been up at this hour on a Sunday morning. I admit freely that most of those times had been because I hadn't been to sleep yet. I remember feeling like I was part of something special, some secret society. All of us kids pouring out of the clubs into the harsh sunlight early Sunday mornings knew something that all of those heading into downtown Orlando for church didn't know. The underground rave scene of the 90's was our church. It was where we went to commune with each other. Worshipping at the altar of the all-night dance phenomenon was an experience like no other. One that I will never forget. We always said it was more than the music, more than the dancing and more than the people that made-up "the scene." It was a FEELING. A feeling like no other, that simply couldn't be reproduced in any other situation or laboratory.

Around mile 6, when the sun started to crest on the horizon. I felt it again. I don't know if it was the endorphins or what, but there was that feeling again. I was running with a perma-grin. I passed another runner going in the opposite direction and she waved and winked at me. It was once again as though I'd found my place in life. She knew exactly what I was thinking and feeling, and we shared a secret. That was something I thought that I'd lost long ago. But here it is again. I think I may be becoming a runner...

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