The house is dark. It's pitch black outside. Jim left late last night, so I've got the whole bed to myself. The dog's bed is next to mine and her snoring seems so loud because everything else is so quiet.
My alarm is set for 5:17 a.m.. I'm almost always awake before it goes off and this last minute before it does is my most favorite and least favorite moment of the day. I love that it's all mine. Me alone with my thoughts, snuggled under the covers, free to sprawl out in the dead center of the bed. I also hate it because I know that sleep is over. That I have to leave the warmth, throw on my workout clothes and start sweating.
I'm always amazed at the number of times I argue both sides of the coin in 60 seconds.
"You're tired. Stay in bed and sleep."
"You know the right thing to do is to get up and hit the stairs."
"Your knee hurts. You'd better take a day off."
"Have you looked at the scale? A day off benefits no one."
Good usually beats Evil as the alarm starts blaring.
Up and at'em.
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