Let me get this straight: I am a morning person. I love to get up early, and when I do, I feel energetic and happy all day. When it’s getting dark outside, I start yawning, and I know I want to go to bed. It’s only the lure of the series I’m following that keeps me from turning in at eight.
And I love working out. I love planning it, but certainly also don’t mind working up a sweat. It’s one reason to feel good about myself all day long. (One of the other reasons is: solving some nice programming-related problem, in case you started wondering whether I really am that computer nerd that you thought me to be). It’s like that extra dose of energy.
And I love working out in the mornings, no doubt. No-one else is awake yet, nobody to distract me from my goals (and nobody to judge my actually following my plan or not, so it’s really all my own ***), the whole day still before me after I shower, watching the faces in the train to work, being all sleepy whereas I’m fully awake.
Then why, I ask you, why did I sleep in again this morning, preferring the bed to the floor, the lying down to the pushing up, the waking late to the jumping around?
One missed opportunity. But there’s still tomorrow to catch up.