Trying to start my day...

My eyes slowly open to the darkness that surrounds me. Light escapes from under the bathroom door and I know exactly what woke me. If I don't wake to the alarm, I always wake to him putting his toothbrush back in the holder. Crazy that a little clink can bring me back to consciousness so quickly. I sneak out of the room hoping the dog will stay right where he is delaying the true start to my day. My goal is to start the coffee and climb back into bed without anyone noticing.

But as I turn to leave the kitchen the puppy stares at me with accusation as if I were really going to let him starve. Silly dog. I sigh heavy as I set his food and water up, and then I return to the bedroom much more awake than I had hoped to be. Flicking on the bedside light I open up the verses for that morning.

Too often I don't read them slowly. Too often I do it to check it off. But the mornings where everything falls into place, and the words speak to my heart, and my heart speaks back are usually interrupted by the dog now needing to go outside. No lie. So, I get up, let him out, and climb back in bed. I don't know why I keep returning. It's as if a magnet were drawing me back over and over. Hubby leaves with a kiss and a full cup of coffee, and I lay in bed considering my day, thinking of my routine, planning my errands, all the time avoiding what I know I should do.


I schedule it three days a week, but I am never excited about putting on my running shoes and driving to the track. I don't know why. There are people there who are supportive and encouraging during all 40 laps around. They laugh at my number, but when 12.5 makes a mile you do what you have to do. I have always hated the gym, and I can't say that word strong enough, but walking I never did mind. Running falls somewhere in between, and if it weren't for the goals set in front of me I would roll over in bed and not ever get up.

But then, that's the case even on the two days I don't run. The bed calls, sleep hints, though I usually stay there for far too long not getting any rest at all. When will I rise with the sun singing with the birds? How do I encourage myself when it is just me and I? So after half an hour of contemplating the ceiling, I turn off the light and blanket, and take myself to the bathroom to get ready for my day.

Feet on the track, empty mind, there is no runner's high for me. But when I am done I know I did well, and I can look back and say I did it. I know I am making strides towards better health. I know I am doing something good for me and those around me.

But goodness the sweet siren's call of the bed is so incredibly hard to ignore. Will there ever be a day my running shoes cry my name louder?


  1. I can totally relate to this! Even when I do get up pretty quickly, I still argue with myself about getting myself out the door for a brisk walk. The spirit is willing.. but..!

    1. OH yes! The flesh is very weak! The one thing spurring me on is an upcoming 5k. Ugh!! I'm now very intimidated by it.


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