Today for instance:
I woke up to my alarm and was on the verge of smashing it. I honestly had no clue what that screeching noise was and had screamed a whole slew of vulagarities (all in my head of course; I didn’t want to subject my poor roommates to my “colorful” vocabulary at 5:30am). I took one look at the clock and felt a growing knot of gross realization: I had to wake up and go to my morning strength session with the team.
I closed the alarm, fell back to my bed for an extra minute, then reluctantly slid off the side of my bed and crawled to my dresser (no exageration). I put on my clothes and headed out the door.
I cheered up on the walk there. The crisp air hugged my bare shins and nipped at my cheeks. Sounds like I’m trying to be poetic or something, but that’s the only way to accurately describe it. The thing is, because of late night soccer practice in the fall and constant outdoors when I was a child, that “cool sensation” is something I love - it’s nostalgia.
Not to mention the rest of the world is absolutely silent. It’s still dark at six am here so I feel like I’m in some odd in-between. Not night. Not day. I really love it.
But then there’s the actual session. Oh God. Today, again, is the prime example of my love/hate for it. I love when it’s difficult and I get to do exercises I’d never even heard of or seen before. Today was circuit training then ropes. All had me pretending I was in Alpha Training or Training in Young Justice. And some of the exercises ARE fun. ….they were just also incredibly painful. I always struggle, but there is something great about that burst of energy at the end of a push. It could be that we’ve gone beyond feeling pain and from there are simply working on pure adrenaline. I love it.
also, went back to climbing after two weeks. Did a 5.9 and two 5.8s before bouldering for a bit. The staff yelled at me to stop dig 5.8s and keep doing harder climbs.
And now to make myself some oatmeal and sleep for an hour before class…