A conversation a few weeks back between my husband and I went like this:
Him: We need to find time in our schedule to get regular exercise.
Me: I agree. Why don’t we get up early and alternate days of going to the gym?
Him: How early?
Me: I think 6:00 a.m. would be good.
Fast forward to last Monday. Ouch, 6:00 a.m. I have woken up at 6 in the past. My current problem is that I have not adjusted my night-time sleep habits. The scream of the alarm startles me awake, but my eyes feel like they are stuck together with glue-stick. I try to awaken gradually, but keeping one eye open and one eye closed doesn’t last long.
Day 1. Not bad. I had papers to finish critiquing. I even squeezed in some reading time.
On day 2, I got moving and found myself on a machine at the gym. While trying to avoid how slowly the seconds were creeping by, I looked up to the television. What did I have the privilege of being distracted by? Saved By The Bell . This was worse than actually waking up! I only caught a few episodes with friends who were fans. I never understood or participated in the cult following of it during my college years. It was (and still is) pathetic television. The writing: D, the characters: D- and the clothes: F. Besides the fact that these kids rarely carried their books to or from their locker and that the characters were extremely annoying, the clothes were a horrible reminder of the hideous fashion of the time. Just looking at them in acid wash jeans, loud print shirts and scrunched up socks made me want to jump off of the treadmill and puke somewhere. The highlight of getting out the door early was that I was fortunate to hear my friend on WBEZ, discussing how he motivates his students before ISAT testing. (Go Kurt!)
Day 3, I reset the alarm to sleep in until 6:45. But only after my husband left for the gym.
On day 4, I stumble about once again, make it to the gym and flail my arms and legs about in an appropriate but not drop what you are doing and stare at me way. This time, I row to the scrolling story of Newt Gingrich explaining his behavior. (We’ll save commentary on that for another day.) Once again I am ready to exit and hurl. Truly, there must be better morning television distractions.
On day 5 I take 30 minutes to get out of bed. I blame the night before, and myself of course. I do manage to get some reading in before I have to shower and wake everyone up. Better than nothing, I suppose.
Day 6 lets me sleep in until 7, because it is a weekend. I also get more time at the gym. This day, I am salivating while watching the Food Network. A cute girl with a great view in the background is preparing beans and tortillas and cheese. I start thinking of lunch. I feel inspired by the next girl with her 5 ingredient fresh looking pastas and appetizers and the use of lemon oil. Hmmm, I bet I could find a recipe and make that. Definitely easy. The end was so annoying when she rolled her eyes to the heavens every time she took a bite of her cooking. I, as a viewer can tell it is delicious. I don’t need her fake acting to convince me. Just stick to what you are good at, sister! As my time rolls to a close, Paula Dean appears. On her menu: bundled green beans with bacon vinaigrette, (its green beans! don’t get complicated) pork chops with blackberry glaze (my husband does not mix meat and fruit together) and pink lemonade cake for dessert (I’ll drink my lemonade separate, thank you). Time to go barf before I take a shower and start the rest of the day.
Tomorrow is the day of rest. Will I be ready for 6 a.m. Monday morning? I hope so, although supposedly it takes 21 days to form a habit.