One quick look outside only exacerbated my disenchantment with the pre-dawn. It was snowing like mad and I just wanted to return to my warm bed with my gently snoring husband and my perfectly arranged pillows.
But I had RIPPED. At 5:30 a.m. In Janesville. Which is a 15-minute drive on a good day, so there was no time to waste.
(And it's mornings like this that are the reason I sleep in my workout socks. A) I don't have to fumble around trying to find the right pair in the darkness and B) My warm feet never have to hit the cold tile, the very idea of which could potentially prevent me from getting out of bed in the first place.)
I threw on some workout clothes, grabbed my water bottle and headed to town. Growling.
The underside of my car only occasionally cleared the accumulation of snow on my country roads. The slow ride in meant I was late.
Then to make matters worse, I went to the wrong location first (we've been having class at a church for the past two weeks as the country club was undergoing some renovation), making me even later.
Grrrrrrrr.
Class has already started by the time I got there. I'd missed warm-up entirely and the other brave souls were halfway through the first section before could get my coat off, shoes on and weights out.
It took me a while to get into the groove, I'll admit. Peggy was up there, being her normal cheerful, encouraging self and I was doing all I could to avoid direct eye contact because I just wasn't awake/ready yet.
But slowly, slowly, the grumpy started to melt away. Sweat is a good antidote to a bad attitude.
An hour and a half later, I walked into work with a smile. By the time I made it to a lunch meeting with a very dear old friend, I was feeling like a million bucks.
Funny how that works.
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