I had not ridden a bike in over 10 years when my father first proposed mountain biking at 6 a.m. one day this summer, the request fell upon deaf ears. But like a tiger in a cage, I become tense and irritated in enclosed spaces without any physical activity. Thus, after several days of summer lounging, I made an effort to accompany my father in what I never thought I would enjoy.

I live in the mountains and the trail is not far from my house so I thought to myself that if I did not like it, I would simply turn around and be back in the bed where I belonged. But when you open your eyes at that ungodly hour of the morning, you awake to a different perspective.

There is something subtly beautiful about rising early and watching the sunrise. There are few people in the streets and the air is cool and untainted by the noise and pollution of the daily bustle. If you’re lucky, the wind is blowing and the sky is clear and the spectrum of yellows, pinks and blues light the open trail.

On the first day, I rode with my head down and my father before me, concentrating deeply on the arduous labor of pedaling uphill. But after some time, I started to feel the extra energy that emits from adrenaline and fresh air, and the experience became about appreciating the scenery around me.

On the trail there were other runners, bikers and idyllic farmer women in their 50s dressed in colorful traditional skirts carrying flowers or hay on their backs. Gleefully, they would smile at me and wish me “buenos dias,” chuckling to themselves about how tired I looked. My father was already way ahead of me and I thought,: if they could do this every morning, I most certainly could too. 

After the first day of extreme exhaustion and some near-death experiences, I was hooked to mountain biking in the morning with my dad. Everyday, there was something different to contemplate. The trail was littered with stray dogs that chased after bicycles and even some chickens, cows and goats. Mosquitoes and other bugs also blessed the trail with their presence and they feasted on my legs adding to my “rugged” look of dirt, scratches and other injuries acquired along the trail.

On the last days I went, my mp3 player shuffling through thousands of songs serendipitously played “Beautiful Day” by U2. Though that song has been among my favorites since it was first released, there are moments when music pairs with an exceptional image — like an early-morning bike ride as the sun rises — that imprints a message in your mind.

Music conveys my emotions the best and because writing has its limits, I must settle for describing my sentiment on those days by borrowing a phrase from U2’s lyrics — “it’s a beautiful day, don’t let it get away.” Some things are worth getting up for — even if it is incredibly hard work or especially early in the morning.

Melanie Aleman can be reached at [email protected]