5am Run

On Sunday night I couldn’t sleep. Having finished weekday nights on Friday morning, my sleep cycle still had not returned to normal. I lay awake from about 0315, comfortably so, ready to go. It was an odd sensation as my partner slept next to me, her steady breathing signalling that she was in deep sleep; yet I found myself on the polar opposite end of the spectrum.

Not being able to sleep is a strange sensation. It’s like no matter how hard you try to relax, your mind just goes back to thinking about things and being productive. I assume that there must have been a subconscious worry about the day ahead, with it being my first ward based day on my new Trauma & Orthopaedic job.

As I lay awake thinking about numerous, mysterious, unsolvable conundrums, my brain whirred as though it was daylight outside and I thought about what I could do with this extra time. After all, it didn’t seem likely I would sleep. Most probably, my occupied mind would exhaust itself by about 0530/0600, at which point I would start to regain drowsiness just as my alarm rang, signalling the dawn of another day. So, I decided I would try my best to sleep until it was approaching 0500. If I wasn’t asleep by then, I would wake up and do something productive to make use of this extra time.

True to my word, it hit 0456 and I still hadn’t fallen asleep. So, in one swift cognitive manoeuvre, I decided to don my running gear, open my running app and timer, and hit the pavements.

It was surreal. Oddly quiet, still dark, with barely anybody around. It was perfect. The feeling of being out there in the cool morning before the rest of the world awoke, away from the usual hustle, bustle, fanfare and cacophony. A lone cyclist going to work or returning from a night shift. A stranger stood at a bus stop, patiently awaiting the scant overnight bus service. The dim, sodium yellow glow from the street lamps throwing shadows on the pavement as my breath settled to complement the steady rhythm of my stride.

I returned home feeling satisfyingly exerted and with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment. I’d had some time to simply reflect on life and be present in the moment without strife. Usually I’d be irritated by a lack of sleep and feel hard done by for the whole day. On this occasion, though, I decided to embrace it and make of it something positive. I’m knackered. But there was something intangibly calming about just accepting this tribulation and rolling with it, like an eternal internal peace.

I guess I’m writing this post in tribute of a unexpectedly positive occurrence. A reflection of the sorts of moments which encapsulate a quieter side of life, the side of life that sits just below the horizon, unconventional and anonymous, yet oddly exhilarating. I’m sure many a person can empathise with the constant nagging feeling of never having enough time compounded by an inordinate amount of distracting noise. Our lives can be so busy with so little time to appreciate stillness. So, in the commotion of ceaseless quotidian medical life, this episode of lack of sleep, which would otherwise cause me much chagrin, paradoxically gave rise to a much welcomed moment of serendipity.