…until I’m not anymore.
For the last many months, I’ve gotten up early in the morning to work – when it’s quiet and the world (and more importantly the kids) is dark and still. Tim and I put on a pot of coffee and sit together at the dining room table. By the time the kids get up, a couple of hours later, we feel awake and accomplished and ready to tackle the day. Lately, the last thing in the world I want to do is get out of bed at 4:30. Or even 6:30 for that matter, and I feel like maybe it’s time to start seeing double digits on the clock again before my head hits the pillow.
Before I got married I worked with a personal trainer and lifted weights, exclusively. Then decided I was done and I took up yoga, which I did 5-6 times/week. Then I stopped, completely, and took up running and ran a marathon while pregnant. Then, I stopped running, cold turkey, and I started spinning until I got bored with that and stopped exercising entirely.
I used to make weekly meal plans and follow them precisely. Now I hope that the random crap we’ve purchased on Sunday will somehow miraculously become something scrumptious and nourishing during the week without me really lifting a finer. It rarely works. I used to eat rice cakes with banana, almond butter, and honey every. single. day. for breakfast. I can’t remember the last time I had that meal.
My coffee used to be black, now I need cream.
Maybe it’s the time change which, for the first time in…well…in forever, physically affected me this year. Or maybe it’s just the changing seasons or my changing mental state, or the bigger life changes that have (new baby!) and are (new job?) happening. But whatever the reason, I think it’s time for some new habits. I’m just not sure yet what they should be.