Sunday mornings

Sunday mornings are brutal. I hate waking up to the alarm on the weekend because even though I work I consider it to be my day off where I stay up late the night before, sleep in until 9am, and make pancakes for me and my husband. I loved that tradition. It worked for me.

My new Sunday tradition goes a little more like this:
1) wake up to alarm at 7:30am and fall back asleep while Chris takes his time in the washroom
2) ignore Chris when he asks me more than once if I plan to still go to the gym this morning
3) get out of bed by 8am mostly because my bladder refuses to let me go back to sleep
4) grumble that Wii fit on Sunday is pointless because I do nothing and eat more on Saturdays
5) eat a bowl of cereal and quickly dress as now I'm running out of time to workout before work
6) spend 1 hour working out at the gym and checking out Chris as he lifts heavy things
7) rush home all sweaty and shower, redress, and pack a lunch in 10-15 minutes
8) head to work tired yet energized, but most definitely happy

I love spending time with my husband (even if we're not side by side, but doing the same thing). I love accomplishing more than I did the day before. I love the feeling of surviving another day at the gym knowing I put most (if not all) of my effort into it and leaving feeling like I didn't just workout (minus the sweatiness). And, I love being taken care of and watched out for because Chris knows I hate the gym so much he becomes super supportive.


Gym status: I hate fly curls, but today I love the gym.