I woke up when the alarm went off this morning. But it wasn’t my alarm. It was Husband’s alarm. That meant that it was almost 6, and an hour and a half later than I should’ve been waking up for my workout.
You know how when you realize you’ve woken up late, you have that rush of adrenaline and sense of panic? I didn’t experience that so much this time as much as, “Shit – how am I supposed to get my workout in, now? Do I let myself be that much later for work?”
I’m a creature of habit, and my routine is almost my identity. Consequently, it feels like nothing is going right this morning. What’s funny is that I even tried to still do my workout, sort of. I got up and immediately put on my workout clothes, rationalizing that I could work from home and that would save me commute time and blah, blah, blah. But I have a meeting today that I’m presenting at, and ultimately decided I needed to make work – not my sweat sesh – my priority.
Something about that makes me irrationally angry. It’s probably because I’m realizing more and more how much I hate my day-to-day work and I know where I want to be and what I want to be doing, and my job is getting in the way of that. My paycheck is in the way of achieving my happy.
So in my mind, I’m trying to figure out when I’m going to make time for this workout while I’m listening to podcasts that are essentially the steps to take to tell your story and find your voice and making all of that a part of your business, and the more I’m thinking about that as I’m getting ready for work, the more resentful I feel.
The more resentful I feel, the more adamantly I believe that I have too long of a career ahead of me to hate what I do this much. Something has to change, and I have to somehow find the courage to make that happen. I’ll be honest – that’s not my strong suit. I have a lot of strengths, but courage isn’t one of them. I’m working on that.
Part of what’s helping me get through this morning is this burning urge to do something more with my life on the large scale. On the small scale, I’m still thinking about when I’ll make time for the workout that I missed this morning. That’s really, really bothering me, because today is day 100 – 100 consistent workouts of me getting up and giving it my all, even when “my all” may not have been great.
This doesn’t mean 100 straight days. I many Sundays as rest days, to take care of me, be present in my home with my family, prep my meals, hug my dogs, kiss my husband, and let my body recover. But in the last 99 workouts, I’ve never gone two days in a row without a workout, and several of those Sundays I still enjoyed a stretch, foam-roll routine, or yoga.
So to sleep through my alarm on a big milestone day is incredibly disappointing. In the big scheme of things, especially with yesterday being a yoga day instead of a complete day off, this is no big deal. It doesn’t make me a failure by any stretch. It’s not like I’ve fallen off the wagon and will never get back on. Shit, it’s not even 9 in the morning – this workout is still going to happen.
It’s the mindset and the attitude it has created for me that’s even more disappointing and gives me a lot to think about. It’s this demonstration of obsessive behavior that seems to be teetering on the border between healthy and unhealthy. I guess the only reason I’m not too worried is because I’m not melting down, I’m not freaking out, I’m not giving up. I’m just disappointed and determined. The day isn’t over, and I have lots of time to get this right without it hurting my work, risking my job, or compromising my health.
And it’s forced me to take a minute to acknowledge how bad I must’ve needed the sleep. I took a damn-near 3-hour nap yesterday, then slept through my alarms this morning. If that doesn’t scream that I need more rest, I don’t know what does. And that’s something else that it’s time to pay closer attention to. It’s a wake-up call, no pun intended.
My mind is spinning this morning, and it’s hard to concentrate on everything going on. So much of that has to do with my routine just being off and not really handling it all that well. The rest of it, well… it’s Monday. It’s freaking Monday, and I just happen to be having a really bad case of the Mondays. And in the end, it’s all going to be OK.