Setting the alarm before 5 a.m. Squeezing workouts in on a lunch hour. Waiting for someone to get home so you can run out. Arranging child care. Washing workout clothes multiple times per week. Planning food ahead of time: no dairy, nothing too heavy. Fitting in a workout right before bed. Changing clothes all the time. Showering all the time. Getting to bed early enough. Getting up early enough.
Ugh. Exercise is f#@%ing hard. And some days I just don’t want to deal with it.
Like this morning.
I set my alarm for 4:55 a.m. Went to bed at 10 p.m. The plan was to get in my trainer ride in the morning before work, so 5-5:30 a.m. in order to go swimming at night since my sweet husband (who was horrified when I told him I’d just “wing” the swim portion of the tri in June), reminded me that he was capable of putting our son to bed without me.
But today at 4:55 a.m., I got up, crossed the room and hit “snooze.” At 5:09 a.m., I got up and went into the bathroom to put on my workout clothes.
At 5:16, I was half-dressed for my workout. (I am slow in the morning.) At 5:17, I took off my spandex and put my pajamas on. I set my alarm clock for 5:45, and returned to bed. Yes, I was 5 minutes late to work this morning.
Now it is night time. I am making dinner. My husband, who works later hours, has not come home yet. I should be in my bathing suit ready to dash out as soon as he gets here. But I am not. I am typing this blog post. I am waiting for some cheese to melt. I am feeling so very tired.
Whenever anyone asks me for advice for new runners (it happens occasionally), I say, “Don’t think, just run.” Because if you really stop to think about it, exercise is f#@%ing hard. Not so much the actual workout, but everything that comes before and after it. And some days I just don’t want to deal with it.