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Writing is wonderful but the side effects can be deadly–e.g., the dreaded spreading backside.
So in an attempt to combat the dreadful threat of having to buy an entirely new set of clothes, I’ve incorporated a morning workout routine into my day. First thing in the morning, yes that’s right, before coffee, before breakfast, before anything completely in the realm of civilized behavior, I force myself to work out.
The routines vary. One day it’s brisk walking, the next, a 30-minute workout on the elliptical, and the next, a couple miles worth of jogging. Rinse and repeat.
I’ll be honest. I hate getting out of a warm, comfortable bed in the morning. The mere idea of slogging around in the chill is so unappealing that I have a tough time tying up my laces. But for some strange reason, the internal whining stops the minute I walk out of the house and into the fresh, crisp air. There’s just something about getting outside in the early morning that perks me up.
Another thing that gets me going is that I make this small amount of exercise time completely and utterly mine.
Deadlines are not allowed to intrude. Likewise problems. The time is all mine, all about me, my time to think of absolutely nothing but the push/pull of muscles and the steady intake of chilled air into my lungs.
Funny thing is, once the workout is done and I’m showered and ready to start my day, the writing seems to come easier. The words seem fresher. I get more done.
But I still whine the next morning when that alarm goes off…
