Hey Endorphins! Where You Been?

I had another 6 am workout this morning. It was 12 degrees when I pulled out of the garage onto the sheet of ice that is our driveway.

Once again, I got to the gym and did what the trainer told me, chatting all the while. And then before I knew it, it was 7 am, I was sweaty and my legs were already sore. Bonus: I'd already finished a bottle and a half of water.

It's a strange feeling of relief to realize my workout is done at 7 am. There's no more, "I know I should go but I'm so tired/hungry/busy," all day long, taking up valuable space in my brain. It's done. No more thinking about it.

This is a real revelation to me, because even back in the day when I ran four or five days a week (those mid-twenties were fun years), it was always after work. I only did long runs on weekend mornings, and back then 8 am was early to me.

On the way home from the gym, I cranked the radio - you wouldn't believe how good the sound system in a minivan can be these days - and enjoyed the endorphins. It's been too long.