“Nooooo. Not yet.” I rolled over and slammed my fist down on the snooze button. It was 4am and time to get up. I’ve always thought of myself as a morning person, but I consider 4 am to still be the middle of the night. I shuffled to the kitchen for some life juice (coffee, duh.) As I poured it in my to-go cup I mumbled to myself, “Adulting is hard. I don’t want to adult anymore…”

I always make my bed. Several years ago I was told that when you make your bed in the morning, you start the day off accomplishing something. That way, you’ll either start off on a productive note with the rest of the day being productive also or even if nothing goes right and you have a terrible day, at least you’ll get home to a made bed. It’s a small accomplishment, but it helps me feel like I’ve got it together (at least a little bit).

I pulled into the parking lot. The clock on the dashboard read 5:12 am. “Oh my goodness. It’s going to be a looong day. I’d give just about anything to be able to go back to bed.” I got my happy butt up and slammed the car door. I proceeded to drag myself through the sliding doors. The gym has a smell that only a gym goer would recognize when you first walk in. It’s like a mixture of rubber, Odoban antibacterial and… dedication. I gotta hand it to those members that are already trucking along on the treadmills. I can’t say I’d be there that early by choice. My first client came in around 5:30 am and the next time I looked at the actual clock, (not my stop watch… “5,4,3,2, annnd 1”) it was noon. Time flies when you’re having fun, eh? At least that’s what I tell my clients.

It was Friday, which meant, ugh, LEG DAY. See, the last thing I want to do after putting other people through workouts for 6 hours is put myself through a workout. As I sat there daydreaming about napping, I slapped myself out of it. “Come on Erin, get it together. You know that if you let yourself go home without getting your workout in now, you’re not going to do it at all.” I changed clothes and forced myself through it. The second that I start, I’m alright. It’s the mental part that I struggle with. I finished my workout around 1pm. Drenched in sweat, I grabbed my stuff and headed home. I love the drive home from the gym. I feel so accomplished. I had about 4 hours before I’d have to be back to teach the Friday night group training class.

Working split shifts during the week has forced me to adapt to a new routine. I’m usually home and done with my workout by 1pm. Typically I have to be back for my second shift about 5pm, so I have a 4 hour window to take care of my normal “adulting” chores. I grocery shop, wash Pearl (my car), clean, do laundry, prep food, you know… all that really riveting stuff you guys love to read about… Anyway, if I’m lucky I’ll be home by 8 or 8:30pm. It may not sound too bad, but I usually pass out around 10 from exhaustion. Hopefully this explains why my posts have been so sparse. 

I love the weekends. Saturday I’m usually off by noon. Sunday is my only full day off so I sleep till, well, as late as I freaking want. By 3pm on Sunday, I’m already stressing about the upcoming week. Several of my family members consistently repeat to me “Don’t let your Monday, ruin your Sunday”… Probably because they’re in the same boat. It’s one of those things you repeat over and over because you’re trying to convince yourself. I don’t stress because I don’t enjoy my job.  As you all know, I LOVE it. 6 more days of early mornings just sounds like such a monumental thing to conquer… AGAIN. I don’t love getting up early, but I acknowledge that we can’t always love everything we do. Sometimes we just have to do it. There are some things I dread but so many more things that make it totally worth it. Since I’ve been training consistently for about 3 months now, the clients that have been with me since the beginning are really starting to see changes. When I see one of them walk in just beaming to tell me how their weigh in went or how they put on a pair of pants they hadn’t worn in years literally makes all of the early mornings and long days worth it. I’m blessed to have found a job purpose that I love so deeply. This is what I was made for. All those doors that were closed, that felt like the world was ending, all of those times that I fell face down in the hypothetical mud and all of those panic attacks led me to exactly where I was meant to be. Adulting is hard, but it’s part of life. Moral of the story is don’t let the closed doors get you down. There’s a reason for everything. Seriously. When the long day is done, I head home, eat dinner and climb into my nice, neatly made bed.

Until Next time…