Oh boy. This is one of those things that really hurts me. It feels like I’m going against all that is me. I love sleeping in until 7am when my kids wake up. If they woke up at 9am, that would be even better. I love writing and reading at night when the house is quiet. My energy kicks in around midnight, when Alex could fall asleep sitting up in a chair. I love the way the night looks outside my window and the mysterious feel to it. I could go on and on. However, logically speaking, I don’t love all this. I admire those who get up at the crack of dawn, get their exercise out of the way, sit down to work on something close to their heart or meditate or get the house clean-whatever, the point is they do something productive and meaningful. Then no matter what happens later in the day, they’ve got the most important stuff DONE. That’s how I want to be, too.
Alex leaves for work at 6am so I’ve been waking up at 5am to sleepwalk my behind to the gym at our apartment complex. Did you know it’s dark out at that hour? It’s ridiculous. I walk like a disoriented zombie with my thick, black framed glasses sliding down my nose while I constantly blink to try to get my eyes to get with it. I have a lot of seasonal allergies and the morning walk to the gym triggers itchy, watery eyes. If the temperature outside happens to be a little chilly, I immediately feel like crying. I have this thing with the cold. So at the risk of sounding wimpy, this morning routine is a bit of a struggle for me. The birds truly amaze me, they are up and about, building homes, digging up grub, singin’ songs. I look over at those show-offs and think, “Yeah, yeah, I would too, if it was a naturally wired habit!”
Once at the gym I walk really slowly on the treadmill to warm up for about 15 minutes. Normally, my warm up takes 5 minutes but I am so sleepy I need to keep walking for a while to get all of my body cooperating. I must sound like an old woman. Anyway, after that I stretch for a few minutes and then literally force myself on the elliptical-the kindest thing in the gym for my injured feet. Then I use all the motivators available to me (me, thinner! me, healthier! me, alive at 100! me, strengthening my heart!) and explode into 60 seconds of deadly elliptical training. Then I bring it down for another 90 seconds and then back into 60 seconds of sweat and tears and back down to a manageable level for 90 more seconds. I continue this back and forth for 20 minutes. By the end I’m heaving and sweating and possibly more chipper than the birds outside. I get back to the apartment as Alex is on his way out to work, leaving him with the most disheveled view of his wife, which hopefully doesn’t stick with him the entire work day. I pray not.
Then I fight all instincts to fall into bed and instead get in the shower. I then follow up on my blood sugar. This entire past week I haven’t seen any out of range numbers after my work out. When I work out in the afternoon or evening I always have to stop for glucose at some point, but not when I work out in the morning, lately. Cool.
It’s still relatively early so I fix my hair, dress, and sit at the computer to do all the writing my kids are no longer letting me do, what with their being two and all.
I’m sure they enjoy a bright-eyed mommy greeting them each morning (“Good Morning my babiesss!!!!!”) instead of the nightgown wearing, droopy eyed, mommy of months past (“Mornin’ Aurora boo, <blink> oh, you’re Henri, hey sweetie pie, mind climbing out of the crib so I don’t have to lift you?”).
Winter is going to throw me for a loop (I get cold when it’s 69 degrees out so you do the math) but let’s just take one day at a time and see what good things this early to bed, early to rise thing brings. I’m hoping to make early rising as much a habit as brushing my teeth. I do that every day no matter how cold it is.