Each morning, just before the pink sun rises, I happily wake up, pull on my neon yellow jogging shorts, grab a banana and head down to the beach in anticipation of my 30-minute run.

I park my flip-flops on the immaculately kept condominium walkway, where water hoses dangle waiting to spritz down my soon-to-be very sandy feet.

Not expecting to see a soul, I stumble by early birds and blue herons, squeak open my sleepy eyes in time to witness the tangerine skies and feel the crystal green waters of the Gulf of Mexico wash over my toes.

The Gulf Shores and Orange Beach, recently named one of the best Gulf Coast Beaches by The Travel Channel, is 32 miles of meandering white sand that feels and looks more like fine sugar crystals.

It doesn’t take long to fall in love with Alabama’s sweet tea and southern hospitality where strangers become fast friends connecting over football and a bowl of fried crab claws, and locals giggle every September about the arrival of the lovebugs (a.k.a Plecia Nearctica) and their unusual acrobatic in-flight mating rituals.