Tweet at 8:22pm

achi11e5 Kevin Everett

Tasty French dinner, lamb, cake, champaign, wine. Little problem, I still have a run to do.

It’s my father in-law’s birthday and the family is celebrating like only the French now how, a ‘nothing special’ supremely satisfying dinner.  We toast some champagne for 66 years of life and eat some appetizers.  The main course is with lamb followed by a salad.  For dessert it is my wife’s famous chocolate cake.  Only taking one helping of my favorite food is unusual but I have hopes of still completing a run after dinner!

Time with my family is most precious.  There are few things on earth more satisfying than eating dinner with your family and seeing your busy 17 month old daughter laugh and play.  Time lingers, life is good.

My wife and daughter head to bed early and I’ve had about 20 minutes to let the dinner ‘settle’.  I don some running attire.

Stepping out of the front door the transformation is immediate.

It’s dark outside and my eyes adjust while my breathing picks up.  It is a calm night, the night after a full moon.  Beginning the run in the middle of the street is standard issue at this time of day.  The Nightrunner moves freely and takes liberties as the king of twilight. Taking tangents across streets, through manicured lawns, down alleys mostly in the direction of choice the whole city feels like a personal playground.

Making my way to the State Capitol Building’s grass lawn I meander over to the Occupy Boise scene and see a few people milling about near the common kitchen area.  I then head towards the heart of downtown and run south on 8th street.  Everyone here is out entertaining, eating, and drinking, I feel out of place and love it.  My entertainment for the evening is top shelf.

But I run to 8^th street for more than the downtown scene.  8th street is the Ironman Boise 70.3 finish and I’ve been running the last half mile.  I project, reminisce, dream and fantasy about running the race that I’m training for right now.  Then, I mostly appreciate the random run down the center of 8^th street on a Tuesday night in January.  It’s the process and the piece by piece challenge to reach a peak performance that is so rewarding.  True, the event itself is the test but it’s the lessons along the way that fill one’s heart with the richness to achieve something more.

Returning from a full day of family celebration to our home left me wanting to extend the joy in my heart for a while longer. It feels late. It’s been dark for hours and it’s freezing outside hovering around the high teens and low twenties but it’s only 8:30. Many of us think nothing of going for a run in June at 8:30pm, but when it’s cold and dark outside, you have the whole great outdoors to yourself and a few foxes, owls and mountain lions. Instead of watching a movie or some football the thrilling idea of heading out into the wilderness took hold of my focus. This was not a run about training or keeping holiday weight down but rather the simple pleasures of being human.

My body instantly began priming itself for the excursion. Part of the challenge of running in the cold is dressing appropriately, and I love getting it just right. To do this you need to be OK feeling a bit cold when you start out. I find the key is a supreme pair of mittens and having the ability to vent the arms. I’ve ran in single digits and had to pull up my arm sleeves to keep from sweating too much.

I step out of the warm house with my wife and daughter already fast asleep and become the NightRunner.

My breathing is deeper and fulfilling, the eyes adjust to the darkness, and my legs propel my 160 pound frame gracefully through the Christmas Lights of Harrison Boulevard with families hanging out in kitchens and living rooms enjoying the warmth of each other while my ears pick up the subtle sounds of near silence under a sky cloaked in star light.

Something deeply rewarding invigorates my soul and it’s really simple. Being healthy and moving while thriving in conditions that challenge one to enjoy their passion on another level animates the soul. My moon shadow streaks through the streets of the North End and after only a few minutes I enter the wilderness leaving almost all sights and sounds of man behind.

Yes, this is what I’m looking for. It’s a tremendous recharge. Maybe I’ll see a mountain lion? Errr, yikes, that might not end up to well for earthier of us nightprowlers.

I see no one. I run. I breathe. I love this. The natural night light resembles so many candles and Christmas lights that adorn the city houses and buildings. But out here, on a trail a few miles northeast of Boise I take in the view of the universe feeling utterly all alone yet surrounded by so much natural splendor that I feel more connected and plugged in. Yes, all this from a simple little evening jog as the NigthRunner.

I’m sorry when my run approaches its last few steps before entering my house. I take off my hat, mittens and thermal vest and the cool night air leaves my warm body with a wonderful sensation. Entering the house it feels hot and I take off my long sleeve shirt and notice that I nailed my attire choice for the evening. Almost no sweat on any of the outer layers while running comfortable with minimum protection means the run is almost perfect.

Breathing in the Christmas Spirit!

It felt like the whole town was sleeping when I began running with absolute calm in the North End. The quiet refreshed my spirit. Mostly it was the lack of any car engines that are hard to escape. Running down the middle of the empty streets with glee in my feet and the moon yielding spectacular shadows of earth’s surface I appreciate my health. I hear a few people at Camel’s Back up early and enjoying the show and continue my journey into the wilderness cloaked in chilly darkness. For a full moon run the eclipse made things very dark. I run east into the single-track of the Boise foothills and keep turning backwards to make sure not to miss the show. Then, about 10 minutes in, the excitement of running alone, under the stars, with a creek trickling beautifully meditative sounds of running water under moon shadow like I’ve never experienced came a million dollar moment. Maybe a billion dollar moment (time will tell).

It swept over me suddenly. The power of it wrapped me with joy as the gratitude intensified. I laughed out loud almost feeling like a crazy person but it felt so good. I let it flow, my gratitude overwhelmed me like 1000 souls joining forces inside my spirit, all expressing thankfulness for a precious moment. A simple, beautiful, humbling moment of wonder and awe for this wonderful life; “Thank you, thank you, thank you” I spoke out loud. I wanted to let the universe know how fortunate I felt to be breathing and thriving in the twilight of a Pacific Northwest Lunar Eclipse.

This morning my 10-mile bike commute started for the first time this autumn in almost full winter gear save for the booties and a hat. I had dressed well and this allowed me to savor the beautiful morning’s crisp air with the warmth of my gear. The day is always better when you can get some fresh air.

Only a mile into my ride a big recreational truck speeds by within centimeters of pushing me off the road or worse. I am heading west with next to no traffic (while it is bumper to bumper heading east into town) on the 5 lanes of State St and taking up a portion of the far lane. Apparently, the person driving the truck doesn’t feel like bikes should be on roads? Not only did he speed by me (going close to 40 in a 30mph) but he also did not use the totally empty lane to my left.

I don’t get angry anymore, but I should. This guy thinks it is his duty to teach me a lesson (that I shouldn’t ride my bike?) by gambling with my life? Ridiculous. So instead I give a courtesy wave, half wondering if he even saw me.

He did.

He slams on the breaks to his big tire all black giant Ford truck with the muffler thingy that sounds like a jet engine. I noticed several BSU stickers on his truck and thought, ‘you know I’m a fan too, can’t we be friends?’ Right!?

I ride up to the big black beast because I don’t feel like turning around to avoid him. I know better than to escalate matters. He is driving a bike squashing several thousand pound vehicle while I’m exposed on a few pounds of lightweight carbon. It’s a fair fight; this guy is obviously a macho man.

I carefully look into his open window and say, “Hey, I was just waving” with a sheepish smile. He ignores me and expresses some pent up anger thinking he is a civilian cop.

“What’s your problem!”

I ignore him.

“You can’t ride in the road!”

“Yes I can” J

“You’re not going the speed limit”

“It doesn’t matter”

I’m surprised that he is a younger skinny guy, and he is getting more upset. His face is red, his fists are clinched and  he is angry but it’s not about me riding my bike.  Not good for me when he could easily brush me off the road and ride on. Plus he is pushing me towards the sidewalk.

“Hey, Man!? Can I just ride my bike?”

With that I push on the brakes and he stomps on his gas pedal.

I catch him at the next light, Veterans, and wave (nicely) as he gets stuck; the left turn signal turns green for me and I continue on my commute.

It only takes a few seconds for my focus to return to the enjoyment of the ride.

Almost four miles later, I speed up to make the light at Chinden & Glenwood. I make it through the intersection with a modest effort and guess who is stuck waiting for the light to cross Chinden. Yeap, skinny little macho man in his giant black truck. I don’t need to wave, I see him, seeing me. I ride on, enjoying my super fast, almost goes the speed limit, takes no gas, keeps me happy and healthy bike.