It was raining. It was raining at it was 6:30 AM. Did I mention it was raining? And that it was 6:30 AM?
So I did it: I snoozed my alarm for 10 more minutes… and then 10 more, and … 10 more.
As it was already 7 am (7:15 by the time I was completely awoken, out of bed and with the latter made) and it was still raining, I decided that I would not fulfill my usual habit of working out in the morning. After all, I had done so every day for the last few weeks, and if that weren’t enough to create an excuse for me that morning, on one day I had actually moved to a non-beginner Pilates workout. It was short – true – but some of it was nearly impossible. And that fact made me 1)not want to workout in the morning anymore 2)sore and sad that I could not pull through it and 3)want to take a break day in the morning.
And on that one break day – as I was calling it, M immediately labeled me as LAZY.
Grr, was I mad. It was a BREAK DAY!
Or was it?
After giving some careful thought all the way to the station, then in public transportation, then in the store while buying my usual morning grapefruit , and then on the upward walk toward the office building, and after passing through the stages of anger ( i deserve a breakday!) , anguish ( why can’t i have a breakday?), sadness ( why did i break my routine?) and finally, acceptance ( ok, i broke my routine, deal with it!) and promise to not let it happen again, I realized something.
I had been LAZY.
Pure and simple.
Because it was raining. And it was 6:30 AM.
