Monday morning. I roll over and grab my phone. Ugh.
4:49 I shut the alarm off and my feet hit the floor. Due to the time change the sky is barely grey at this point of the morning. I try to ignore that fact that in my brain and body it is actually 3:49. I jump in the shower, and grab my lulu get up for the morning. I ignore my garmin, charging on the night table, and grab a water bottle from the fridge before I lace up my old ghetto brooks and head out the door. The keys hit the ignition and I drive the familiar path to the gym. Deer are even disturbed by my early morning timing and jump out of the way. I remember when this was the time of day two years ago when I ran among them, startling them gracefully, on foot. Now, I interrupt them with noise and zoom past. I turn the corner and zoom up the drive. I park, grab my headphones, my shoes and unlock the door.
5:06. I hit the lights and begin my routine...1 mile sprint, followed by jumping jacks and burps until I feel like my chest is going to explode. I stop for a split second and think about it. Two months until tough mudder. A challenge I am seriously, seriously afraid of. Even with a marathon, it is the simple act of one foot in front of another. A run. Our bodies were made to move, to run. THIS. Tough Mudder....entirely different. A challenge, 10 miles of running with 27 insanely ridiculous obstacles along the way. Exactly what I need. A new challenge, a new way of thinking. A strong way of thinking and being. Already feeling like a slacker with my delay, I eye the pull-up bar in the corner, it is my personal goal this month to hit 10 in a row. I shy away and hit some push-ups. 50. Stairmaster to simulate hills, as hard as I can. I feel my heart palpitating and ease off. Jacks. Bosu. Burpees. Push-up rows. I keep up. I look to my left and see the sun rising in the sky. I miss the pounding. The running. THe moment when I was alone on the bike path appreciating the rhythm of my body moving together and the sun rising in the sky with each new day, the thoughts, the chance for a new beginning every day. Tough. I shrug it off and keep going.
5:38. In a moment of sadness I hit the tread and crank out some speed work. I reminisce in the feeling of my feet flying and truly enjoy every step. I love the power and strength I feel with each stride. My arms cranking to move my body, and my core crunching with every movement. Whole body working as one. I love it. I own it.
6:08. I step off, and think of my 8 year old client who always says when she steps off, "it feels like I am still moving." I smile, grab some water and hit 50 more push-ups. Still I eye the pull-up machine. And still shy away. I stop dead in my brooks. What am I waiting for? I walk over and grab the bench. I reach up and take a deep breath. I look over my right shoulder and catch the sun square in my eyes. I accept it as a challenge and pull my body up. I tuck my tummy in and focus on moving from my core. I use my lats and pull my body up again and again. I breathe deep and find the connection. My back working with my arms, with my shoulders with my breath. I hit 7, then 8, then 9. My arms give. I succumb.
6:18. I sit on the floor and smile. Dope. I found it. I set a goal. Totally different from what knew and loved and moved to get there. I didn't hit it...yet. But I know I will. The power of the mind is really what manages everything. I throw my sweatshirt on and head out the door. Plenty of time for coffee before my 7:00 am class.
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