Up Before the Dawn

I am up before the dawn. Today will be a long one forcing an early rise, walk of dog and icy commute. I have been scouring Craigs List trying to find a set, or just two, all terrain - all season tires for the Ranger. Specifically P225 70 R15. In the meantime I have placed a 100lb fir round in the bed to add whatever slight traction it might provide. Although it is the first week of December it has been relatively cool. Which around here, 130 miles from the Canadian border, means without ice or snow. The first frost of the winter, while not surprising, came with stealth and speed. Overnight.

It always takes my breath away, literally and figuratively, to walk out in the first frost. One gets a peppermint inhale of crispness that feels on the lungs what schnapps feels like on the tongue. Noses crystallize and cheeks redden.  Each step is accentuated with a crunch as I make my way to the truck, now encased in a thin layer of ice, sparkling in the moonlight. My second thought after the initial 'wow', is of my balding tires. The Island where I live is a hilly one. Under these conditions the downhills (stopping) are equally as challenging as the uphills (slipping). I used to love this time of year because my popularity seemed to quadruple once the word of my Jeep circulated.

As you know from earlier posts, I am house and pet sitting. I do this often and usually have no problem sleeping in ‘strange’ beds, on lumpy couches or fighting for space with black labs. But again last night I was interrupted by the abnormal. As best I can re-create it, my pacemaker sent an electron onto my left atria, signaling that the rate had dipped to a nadir of 70 beats per minute, in order to ‘shock the monkey’ back into a more appropriate rate, and hence keep me from another annoying round of atrial fibrillation. Sensing this jolt while nearing REM is not exactly fun. My response is usually an overreaction, since I am being shocked or shot at shouldn’t the proper counter be to FUCKING RUN?

I wake from this technological nightmare about 50 meters down the hall, already sweating, panting and totally disoriented. WTF? What was THAT and where am I? Who is chasing me THIS time and what TF do they want? Like any good anxiety dream, when I finally put all the pieces together, I have to laugh. At myself. It used to be so easy when I would sleep-walk or have another ‘you forgot your pants’ episode. But this? Geeeeze Oh.

I go back to the comfy and toasty bed and look at my phone for the time. 0505. Ah, I have less than an hour to finish up with rest and recovery. Use your time wisely. All night I have been sleeping on my left side because flat on back or to the right seems to create unfavorable heart positioning causing apnea or arrhythmia, or both. What a mess. I decide to count breaths and then get an even earlier start to the day. As I count from one to ten my runaway mind starts in with more chatter. It reminds me that in spin class today I must ask for updates from the group on the success of their ‘make Monday the best day ever’ assignment. Naturally my internal life coach insists that I prepare, so in compliance, I add a few choice zingers between breaths. Wrong response - you are JUST BREATHING. I hear one final plea suggesting that the magic is always here - all you have to do is look for it. I finally get to ten uninterrupted by my relentless internal monologue and rise to face the day.

Dawn. Dog. Frost.

And the most magical and miraculous sunrise ever. Mt Rainier as silhouette against a crimson, burnt umber and saffron pallet of hope. The moon is a waxing gibbous jewel in the clear morning sky as Venus dances like a whirling diode dervish. I stand on the deck, cup of steaming coffee in hand, with complete awe and gratitude.

Very happy to be alive.