Fitness Friday: I Love Mornings. And I Love Workouts. But I Don’t Love Early Morning Workouts

This is a story of Revival, Inspiration, Determination and Revelation that ends with a Great Life Lesson.

Sounds a bit like we’re headed to a Camp Meeting. Except we’re not.

Revival:

My fitness routine this summer could best be described as A Little of This and a Little of That. A little walking. A little (very little) running. A little 30-Day Shred. A little kettle bells. A little elliptical.

Once school started, I was ready to jump into something more structured to carry me through until Christmas. I considered Insanity—too insane. I considered CrossFit—not the right fit. So, a few days ago, out of total boredom with all-things-exercise, I blew the dust off my P90X DVDs and popped one in. The spirit (okay…not THE spirit, but A spirit) moved me.  And a Revival was born.

Oh, how I missed Tony Horton, his spray-on tan…his dyed hair….his terrible puns. It took me about 5 minutes of Plyometrics to decide I loved P90X enough to sacrifice the next 90 days of my life. This would be known as a Foxhole Salvation. Some people don’t believe in the sincerity or longevity of Foxhole Salvations, but I promise you, smack dab in the middle of a jumping lunge, I recommitted to P90X.

For the cool down, I held an altar call and sang “Just as I Am.”

Right there in front of my flat screen.

It was beautiful.

Inspiration:

I suppose the renewed passion for P90X wooed me into thinking this next idea was a good one: Not only will I again do P90X, but I will get up every day at 5:15 am and complete my workouts before I wake the children up for school.

Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha.

The 5:15 part isn’t as funny as it seems. I do actually get up at or around that time every weekday. But generally, I’m groping my way to the coffee maker in my jammies and trying to decide which would better serve me:  reading glasses or a Large Print Bible. Why I thought my current morning routine would flow seamlessly into an hour of hard-core exercise, I do not know.

Father, forgive me. I know not what I do.

Determination:

Day One: The night before my first workout, I set out my workout clothes and my shoes. I filled my water bottle and stored it in the fridge. I dug out my P90X worksheets and schedule and set them on the side table with a pen. I chose Workout One and placed it respectfully into the DVD player. I retrieved the free-weights I would need for said workout, set them near the side table.  Then I kissed them goodnight–the weights. I crawled into bed at 9:30 pm. (Which is no small feat in these parts, considering my kids are on some sort of sleeping strike and much prefer to scream and run and fight with one another at this hour than they would sleep.)

After pressing the snooze only once, I arose from my slumber at 5:25, got dressed and—glory-be—successfully completed my workout.

(Definition of successfully: Spending the entire hour wishing I could eat breakfast or drink coffee or go back to bed or poke myself in the eyeballs with a thousand needles.)

It went really well.

Day Two: I set out clothes and shoes, filled my water bottle, but forgot to choose the DVD. I got into bed at 10:30 instead of 9:30, and pressed the snooze twice instead of once. Once I stumbled into the basement, and pressed “play,” I spent the majority of the next 45 minutes asking God to forgive me for the death threats I was wishing upon Tony Horton and friends. I also yawned a lot. And my stomach hurt. When my cheery husband asked, “How was your workout?” I hissed at him.

Day Three: I went to bed—I have no idea when. I got up at 5:45 and made a pot of coffee. I sat down at the table with a steaming cup of Joe and read a few chapters in Ezekiel, alternating between reading glasses and no reading glasses. Then I worked out later in the morning, the way God intended for me, since the foundations of the earth.

Revelation:

1. I am not an early morning workout person.
2. Doing P90X on an empty stomach with no caffeine in my system is a recipe for a terrible workout and a wife who is prone to hissing.
3. Something as simple as working out at the wrong time of the day can make me loath exercise.
4. That was the very first time in my life I dreaded working out. And I didn’t like that feeling.
5. Words like “loathe” and “dreaded” should not be used in conjunction with exercise, if I desire to be a fit and healthy person.
6. I will have a tendency to beat myself up this week for failing at my early morning workouts attempt.
7. Beating myself up for something that has absolutely no eternal value whatsoever is ridiculous.
8. I will have a tendency to beat myself up for beating myself up over something that has no eternal value.

Great Life Lesson:

Finally, what we can all learn from this:

Regarding your personal workout routine, find a time that works best for you and stick with it. If you are a mid-morning person (like me), then enjoy your coffee and breakfast, and don’t beat yourself up, no matter how badly you struggle with perfectionism. If you are a lunchtime walker, then walk with reckless abandon. If you like to hit the gym on your way home from work, then get jiggy with your big bad self at the 6 pm Spinning Class. If you prefer an evening run, then run, run as fast you can. I can’t catch you, you’re the gingerbread man.

That’s all. And have a great weekend.

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