Me and mornings, we don’t get along.
We didn’t back in the Good Old Days, when I could count on a solid seven or eight hours of sleep each night. We really didn’t in the haze of the newborn days, when they seemed to arrive almost before I closed my eyes. And we still don’t now that I’m getting five or six hours of oft-interrupted slumber.
So it’s no surprise that I’ve long scoffed at the idea of morning workouts.
Sweating before coffee? That’s just…wrong. On so many levels.
In fact, those close to me have heard me swear that pigs would fly before I became a morning exerciser.
Which means that somewhere, somehow pigs are flying (even if only in some mad scientist’s lab).
I, Amber Page, have embraced the pre-dawn workout.
No, really. It’s true.
My alarm goes off at the unholy hour of 6 a.m. And I am up and out of bed by 6:15.
I stumble to the bathroom, pull on my workout clothes, slap my hair back in a ponytail, and tie on my running shoes before my eyes are fully open.
By the time my body realizes what’s going on, I’m halfway done.
By the time my husband rolls out of bed, I’m cooling down.
By the time the grumposaurus stomps down the stairs, I’m not only done, but showered, dressed, and ready to go.
And you know what? I like it.
I like starting my day with a good sweat. I like getting the endorphins flowing before I’ve brushed my teeth. I like exercising in the morning. I really like it.
And that’s just weird.
It all started because of this Let’s Get Physical weight loss challenge I’m doing. I hoped those workouts would melt the pounds off me, and get me that much closer to winning first prize.
Yep. That was a good theory.
Four weeks in, I’ve lost a measly four pounds. Which is better than no pounds, I know. But still. I’m not exactly setting any records for weight loss.
But, you know what? I don’t really care.
You know why? I feel good.
I’m almost all the way through the Couch to 5K program. The running has stopped being painful, and started being fun again.
I’m rediscovering yoga. I actually did a back bend today (it’s been years since I could pull that off).
I’m seeing my body change shape. Slowly, of course. I”m guessing no one else can tell. But I don’t care.
I feel good. Real good.
That’s enough. For now.