The Moon’s finest hour.

The earth’s shadow began to munch on the moon. I drove down the dark Mississippi road, dodging deer and watching as the eclipse began to spread. By the time I got to the football stadium for my workout, over half the moon was plunged into darkness. It was a powerful sight.

We stretched and like Harold in Harold and the Purple Crayon, the moon was always with us. It loomed over its shoulder, dying quietly. It watched as we ran 100-yard sprints with a parachute on. It supervised us as we did what’s called a “nipple drill.” It began to slip behind the stadium as we did Clark’s station.

By then the moon was blood red. A Blood Moon as they call it — a total lunar eclipse. I can see why past civilizations would freak out when there was one. It was eerie. Stars dared to poke their faces out. It was like the eye of a celestial hurricane.

There was something very powerful about working out beneath a total lunar eclipse. Sure, technically it was just the earth’s shadow blocking the sun’s light reflecting off the moon. But to see the moon plunge into darkness that quickly was a not-so-subtle reminder that we are truly not in charge.

The moon began to dip beneath the trees for its final performance. It had put on a fine show. A haunting show. As I ran off the field, I did a slow clap. It was the moon’s finest hour. Great job moon. Great job.