It Smells Different In The Morning

I hate exercising in the morning.

No other way around it.

I hate it.

But exercising in the evening?

No problem-o.

I feel confident. I feel swift. I feel like a gazelle that could leap over a heard of elephants while simultaneously knitting a scarf with her hooves.

Exercising in the morning is a whole different ball game. I start to feel sick halfway through it and end up crawling home. I feel more like a turtle that's gone on a leaf binge and is dragging her shell behind. I've come to the conclusion that I'm more of a "finish the day strong" kind of girl.

But, I noticed today I wasn't dragging my shell as far behind me as I was yesterday. I consider the desire to not puke my guts out as much as the day before progress.

I know, I know...so why bother?

Because I'm doing the Baltimore Women's Classic 5K on June 26th, and I'd prefer to not cross the finish line feeling like I'm going to puke or pass out. Which is how I felt last year. I'm positive the fact that it was close to 100 degrees by 8AM had something to do with it. Either way, I'm doing what I can to get myself prepared. And so I laced up sneakers, slapped my hair into an awful pony tail, and prayed I wouldn't run into anyone I know as I was trying not to die on my morning walk/run.

A thought occurred to me in between reminding myself to breathe: it smells different in the morning than in the evening. Seriously. Maybe it's because my nose isn't awake yet - it hasn't been assaulted with a bajillion scents, so it's aware of individual scents/fragrances.

I could smell someone making pancakes.

I could really smell the honeysuckle.

I even smelled roses before noticing the giant rose bush at a neighboring neighbor's house.

I also kept smelling something powdery fresh. And then I realized it was my deodorant kicking in. Three cheers for Degree.

If exercising to the scent of pancakes, honeysuckle, and roses is what it takes to trick my brain into thinking morning exercise is fun, then that's what it takes.

Seriously, if you are a morning exerciser, I tip my hat to you. You have my adoration. And if you would like to pass any little tips along - like how early you start, if you eat beforehand, what you eat, how much water you drink, how long you're awake before exercising - feel free to share your routine/expertise with me.

And now I need to get a shower.

If They Brought Back "California Dreams"...

1. I hate exercising in the morning.

Hate.

BUT, the Baltimore Women's Classic 5K is at the end of June. I want to be alert, mobile, and able to compete with myself.

Rawr.



2. There aren't any cartoons on in the morning, so why not get out there first thing?

If they brought back California Dreams I might reconsider.

Or Gummy Bears.

Or She-Ra.



3. A 100 calorie sandwich thin topped with a tablespoon of natural peanut butter, drizzled with honey, and some fresh strawberries...it's what's for breakfast.

Holla.

My Father's Rule

‎"He who is up first makes the coffee."

That's my father's "rule."

I maintain that I am a "she" and am, therefore, exempt from said "rule."

However, I like to remind my father of the generous, considerate, magnanimous, helpful, and extraordinarily humble woman I have become, so I will make the coffee if I am up first.

I'd also like to remind my father that I can hear him run down the hallway into his bedroom when I first walk down the steps in the morning. Little more subtlety, Pops!

So, who wants a cup of strong decaf??

Trash Bags Are Good For More Than Trash

I could hear them coming down the street. I had to move fast.

I cautiously opened the back door and gently eased the trash bag I was carrying on to the patio.

You see, he waits every morning at the same place for me...except I never know where the lines to his trap are tied.

I surveyed the area in front of me, hoping a bit of sunlight would make the otherwise invisible lines appear.

Ha!

There was one in front of me.

I looked on the ground around me. There was no stick in sight to knock it down. I was losing time. I could hear them getting even closer. I did the only thing I could. I grabbed the trash bag and held it in front of me like a shield.

I blasted my way through the anchor lines to the spider's web. In my head I was Mel Gibson in Braveheart shouting, "FREEEEDOMMMMMM!"

Except this was 6:30AM.

And the neighbors were asleep.

And they would think I was nuts.

I mean, they already know I'm weird. But a 6ft tall woman, in her pajamas, running around her backyard with a trash bag in front of her face screaming, "FREEEEDOMMMMMMMM!!!!!" is a whole new level of weird.

Anyway, I raced around the back of the house, up the sidewalk, with the trash bag as my spider web shield. The trash truck was getting closer - only 4 houses away! I got the trash bag in the trash can and ran back around the house all without being seen by the trash collectors and the neighbors. And I outwitted Mr. Spider again.

BOOM!