A Bayfront Morning Routine: Jogging, Shells, and Solitude

    One of the things I treasure most from my time in the Philippines is the quiet, peaceful mornings spent jogging by the bay. The beach was just two minutes away from my place, making it the perfect spot to unwind and start the day. Though not your typical white sandy beach, the bayfront had its own unique charm — it was rocky and often scattered with beautiful, tiny seashells. Every step felt like a mini adventure, dodging little rocks while marveling at the patterns on the shells beneath my shoes.

    I remember hearing stories from my local friends about how dolphins and stingrays occasionally made appearances in the shallow waters of the bay. Though I never saw one myself, the thought of it made every morning jog feel a bit magical — like maybe today would be the day I’d catch a glimpse of something extraordinary. More often, I’d only spot small fish darting near the rocks. But honestly, even that was enough to make me smile.

Wonderful Sunrise

    From my very first day in the Philippines, I made a promise to myself — to be consistent with my morning jogs. I was lucky enough to have a supportive friend named Belgis, who not only encouraged me but joined me each day. We’d leave around 5 AM, right after the Fajr prayer, when the sky was still painted in soft shades of dawn. It was quiet — sometimes almost too quiet — as very few locals were out that early. That solitude gave the beach an even more calming presence.

    Jogging with Belgis became one of our little rituals. Some mornings we ran; other days we simply walked and talked, sharing thoughts, plans, or even just silence. The air was fresh, the view was calming, and the routine felt grounding. It gave us the clarity to start the day on the right foot — both literally and figuratively.

The Beauty and The Wonderful

    In a way, those early morning jogs taught me more than just discipline. They reminded me of the beauty in small things — like seashells crunching beneath my feet, the steady rhythm of waves, or even just having a consistent buddy to share the silence with. They became a quiet sanctuary before the buzz of the day took over.

    And although I never did see a dolphin, I found something better — a small window of peace, every single morning, framed by a rocky shore and an endless horizon. Something tells me that’s even rarer.