I remember hearing of moms who would wake up at 4:30 am in the morning to do a morning run by 5:30 am. I remember hearing of these women as a single woman and thinking that they were crazy.
“How or why would anyone wake up so early to work out?”
I was waking up at 8 am then. I wasn’t a parent then. My time was my own then. 12 pm trips to the gym on a whim because I ate more than 2 brownies were the usual then.
Now, now, I’ve become on of those parents. This morning I woke up around 4:45 am to get to the gym by 5:30 am. It was insane and my body wasn’t really ready to get up, but in pulling in the parking lot of the gym and having the thought that my kids were still sleeping, that this time was my time, that, well, that was enough to make things seem to make sense.
As I walked into the bright gym it smelled of cleaning supplies and old rubber. Two old guys sweated it out on elliptical machines.Some older women in black walked the treadmills. And some women lifted weights while positioned in a squat.
I have a baby and a toddler at home. I have a baby and toddler at home who are not sleeping through the night, mostly, but somehow when I sat on the recumbent bike in the corner of the women’s room, it felt right. It felt like I was supposed to be there, like all the stress, the fatigue that I should have had on account of my life’s demands, they weren’t as important as before.
So, tomorrow, I’m going to the gym again at 5:30 am in the hopes of becoming (and staying) one of “those” parents.