Slowly but surely, the holiday weight is sloughing off. It's grumbling in the process (and so am I), but that pesky padding is thinning out. (Ah....thank you, Treadmill.)
It's a hate-love relationship with my treadmill right now. I really, really, really hate to start working out, and I'm not usually enthusiastic until the last ten minutes or so (because I'm about to be done), but good heavens don't I love the feeling of having worked out.
I did get in four workouts last week--my default goal. And I'm proud of myself, don't get me wrong. But I'm still not doing that other thing too consistently.....
you know.
That other thing.
waking
up
e
a
r
l
y
.........eugh. I hate it. I hate, hate, hate it. Lara, I feel your pain; we are nocturnally-minded sisters or something.
First, it's the dead silence of the house. My alarm pierces the deep, joyous, solid satisfaction of my sleep; it demands attention. Then if I'm being good, I roll onto my back--because I WON'T fall asleep on my back unless I've currently given birth and am nursing and exhausted beyond normalcy--and I try to open my eyes, hearing nothing but the comfortable (STILL SLEEPING) breathing of Phill next to me, the weird mutterings of our on-the-outs computer in the livingroom (it groans, I'm telling you), and the pressing silence of a still-sleeping household. Shouldn't I still be sleeping, too? (that's where the self-pity really kicks in and I maybe cry a little bit with my eyes still closed)
But if I don't wake up when the time is ripe, here's what happens: Reed comes into my room, pats my face, and says sweetly (and a little bit nervously, as the poor boy has discovered my alternate personality in the mornings), "Mama, we're awake. And Savvy is too. And I would like some cereal."
Which doesn't make me feel like I'm doing very well at this Doing My Best thing. (And oh, how that Doing My Best thing matters with regard to motherhood. Are you as worn out as I am?)
When I dress down the problem, dress it down to bare bones, it comes to this: It hurts. Waking up early (for me) hurts. But too bad. I need to do it anyway.
There's the issue. I need to do it. I don't HAVE to. But I NEED to. Why is it so much easier to do what I have to do, rather than make the difficult choices day in and day out?
No one's forcing me out of bed. If I beg sadly enough, Phill will kindly cover me with the blanket and say, "It's okay. Go back to sleep." And my kids aren't physically dragging me out of the bed. But I need to get out of bed early, because if I don't, my children wander, aimless, oddly-dressed and probably hungry.
So, my (already-mentioned) confession: I am terrible at getting out of bed before my children practically drag me out of bed. And I'm going to do better, as in 7:30.
I really can't wait for it to be lighter outside in the mornings.
6 comments:
Oh yeah, it's the WORST in the winter.
See, now you've inspired me to get on my bike (I wish I had a treadmill...I think I'd be more likely to use it, but it's probably just an excuse.).
I will do it tomorrow.
Good for you on all counts! I told Matt I had made some resolutions, and he tried to politely get me to add some sort of exercise one in there. I know I should do it, but I don't feel like it. Maybe I will end up setting up the bike on the trainer at some point this week though. I was noticing this morning that my overindulgence of holiday treats and a certain area on my body didn't get along.
I hear ya. I fell off the map on getting up early, too. But it always seems like when I read your posts on the painful topic, I get motivation, so maybe tomorrow I'll be an early bird. :)
Thanks, Rae. :)
Oh my gosh...I totally know where you're coming from! It's hard for me to get out of bed AND I don't have three children who are up and hungry to look after at the same time!
I exercised 4 days last week too and skied on Saturday so I happily counted that as my fifth day of exercise. I'll be honest and say that I've put on 10 pounds since college but the last time I weighed myself, I was down three pounds! The weight may not come off that quickly but I've some doing some weights too so I'm hoping that that "muscle weighs more that fat" excuse is ringing true in my case : )
I love the look of your new blog by the way!
You know, sometimes I don't know how I do it. 5:50AM is quite painful at first. I go into the bathroom with my eyes still glued shut (really, they WON'T open). But when things get going, I realize I'm excited to swim or whatever, and the thrill of it finally covers the DARK nastiness of morning.
I did sleep in today, in my sickness, but in complete unfairness, I still woke up at the same time at first and couldn't fall asleep again FOREVER because of the stupid aches and yucks.
I love you! And supercongratulations on working out!
XD <--- this is me laughing at my past self. "I don't know how I do it! Tee hee! 5:50am bla bla bla"
Last night I went to bed at about 11:30 hoping that 8 or 9 hours would feel really good in the morning. Well, oops. Because I woke up at stinking 9:48am.
I would really love to be on a good schedule... *sigh*
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