Ah, the sweet sound of a 3:45 a.m. alarm. No, that’s not sarcasm – you get used to it eventually. Kind of. This morning was another episode of “Why do I do this to myself?” as I joined the Midlothian Mafia for a 5 a.m. track workout. Because what else says “I love running” like being half-awake, covered in mist, and facing the daunting expanse of a middle school track?

It was one of those mornings where the air wasn’t just misty; it was more like nature had turned on a very aggressive humidifier. Everything was sticky – my shirt, my hair, my soul. The track was surrounded by that mysterious morning fog that makes you feel like you’re about to star in some epic sports movie montage. Spoiler: no one is watching you crush 400-meter repeats in a Rocky-style moment of glory. But it’s nice to dream.

As we warmed up, a part of me was questioning every life decision I’d ever made. Why not choose a sport like chess? Or knitting? No one sweats through their shirt doing that at 5 a.m. But there I was, running circles around a track like it was the meaning of life. The Midlothian Mafia, a running group I am growing to like more and more with each run, looked equally enthused. By “enthused,” I mean we all grumbled incoherently at each other while trying to stretch without falling over.

Now, track workouts are supposedly great for improving speed and endurance. The idea is that repeatedly running laps on a track at varying speeds somehow convinces your body to become a more efficient running machine. Science, right? If you’re like me, though, it feels more like an experiment in how quickly you can transform from “Oh, I’m feeling pretty good!” to “Why does my entire existence hurt?”

We started with the classic: 400-meter intervals. It’s a nice way to break up the monotony of long runs. Plus, it’s amazing how the same distance can feel so much longer when you’re trying to run it faster than your usual pace. The first interval was… okay. By the second, I started to realize that I was sweating so much, it looked like I had fallen into the mist. By the third, I was pretty sure the track was mocking me. Overall, I crushed roughly 3ish miles with decent time.

But despite the torture, track workouts are a weird kind of fun. There’s something about the rhythm of running around in circles with a bunch of other half-crazy people that makes you feel like part of an exclusive club – like we’re in on some big secret. And the secret is that, yes, this does eventually make you a better runner, even if right now you feel like a sweaty mess.

As we wrapped up, with a final lap that felt more like a victory slog than a sprint, the mist was starting to lift. I’d survived another track workout, bonded with my fellow Midlothian Mafia members in shared suffering, and convinced myself (yet again) that running at ungodly hours of the morning is a great idea.

Track workouts, man. They hurt. They make you question your life choices. But when you’re done, and you’ve sweated out what feels like half your body weight, you’re left with that weird, smug satisfaction that comes from knowing you put in the work. So, here’s to more sweaty, misty mornings on the track, and to getting just a little bit faster – one grueling lap at a time.

Look at these distinguished group of runners!