May 7, 2008

Making Peace with the Morning

I don’t do mornings. I mean, if I have to, I will. Three days a week, it’s my responsibility to get Big I on the very early bus. The days when it’s not? I’m praying that Lil C sleeps in until at least 9.

So, when I was told last week that I had to schedule my physical therapy early in the morning since the office will be closing for the afternoon on one of my days, I begrudgingly made my appointment and told myself one day wouldn’t kill me. It’s true. One day wouldn’t kill me, but one day quickly turned into two days when I showed up early today (not the day I was supposed to show up early).

My PT looked at me kind of funny when I walked in. "What?" I asked him, "not used to seeing me in the morning or do I look that bad?"

He laughed and said, "No, it’s just that you’re not supposed to be here until after 3 today."

"But you have a half day today!" I said.

"That’s Friday," he said and laughed some more.

I hate exercising in the morning and now I’m going to have to do it twice in one week. Apparently I’m trying to kill myself.

I spent the entire weekend slacking on my exercises. I figured that my dancing to one Prince song and "In Da Club" was exercise enough. I was sore after that, even though I mainly danced on one leg (Nothing can hold me back when Prince comes on).

What I found out this morning is that morning exercise actually loosens the knee up a whole lot better than my normal daily routine of walking back and forth from the kitchen for more coffee. In fact, I doubt I even needed more coffee when I got home because I’m wide awake. There’s nothing quite like a brisk walk on the treadmill to get you going.

I’m not saying this is going to become a routine thing, and I definitely won’t say I’m happy about having to wake up and go work out on Friday morning too. I’m just saying that maybe mornings and I can agree to be friends.

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