Never say never

The alarm on my phone begins to beep at 5 am and I slide my hand to the nightstand and fumble to silence it. I climb out of bed and feel my way to the bathroom where I’ve piled leggings, a t-shirt, and sneakers. The latch on the door clicks too loudly as I close it so I can flip on the light. Pulling on my exercise clothes while moving towards the sink, I brush my teeth, splash my face with water, and use my fingers to arrange my hair into an almost ponytail. Clutching my phone, I ease the bathroom door open, tiptoe around the bed, step into the hallway, and halt until I activate the flashlight feature so I can light my way to descend the stairs. In the kitchen I fill my water bottle, grab the car keys on the island, and head out the back door. It’s 5:10. The dark drive on country roads is not my favorite. I do not turn on the radio or connect to a Spotify playlist. My eyes sweep left to right, searching for deer who always seem to lurk just around each blind curve and at the edge of road. By 5:23 I’m pulling in to my destination, the tires of my car crunching over the gravel on the driveway. I park, grab my rolled up exercise mat and cycling shoes, and walk toward Helen’s studio. The lights are on, the music is going, and each of us is finding a bike, changing shoes, climbing onto our bikes, and clipping in. We smile and say hi. There is conversation but not too much. It is early. We are all still waking up. And we are here. Class begins at 5:30. I’ve always said I am not an early morning exerciser. I would never do that, I told those who know me best. But I can, and I do, and I am. Doing IT. Exercising before the sun rises. It feels good. I am proud. Of me.