Sweet Dreams

I had the BEST workout this morning!

It happened while I was sleeping. Do you think that counts?

Picture this: It's 4:49 a.m. and I surface for the first time. I roll over, look at the clock, and panic because it's well past my husband's normal 4 a.m. wake-up time. He's still in bed!

"Jim! It's 4:49! WAKE UP! You're late!" The words tumble out of my mouth, zipping past the foggy early morning haze.

"I don't have to be anywhere until 7," he harrumphs and roots deeper into his pillow.

"Oh," I say. With a second glance at the clock, I decide I have about an hour of precious time myself before I need to hit the treadmill. I will myself back to sleep.

Then comes the fantastic workout. Treadmill ... check. Running ... check. Sit-ups ... check. Weights routine ... check. Good sweat, endorphins flowing, all is right with the world.

But it all takes place in my dreams.

Before I know it, I'm waking up at 5:29 a.m. (what's with the 9s?) and I feel amazing. My nocturnal workout briefly flashes before my eyes and the really good feelings are quickly replaced with the sort of disappointing realization that there was no workout and I still have to rally, get downstairs and do it ...

Again.