On the wrong foot...

I should've known that today was going to be one of those days when I woke up at 4:05am. Ordinarily, waking up at such an hour wouldn't present much of a problem as it would just mean that I was going to roll over onto my other shoulder and then continue my slumber. Today, however, when my alarm was set for 435am I immediately groaned my distaste. There's nothing worse than waking up just before your alarm clock. I always feel as though I have cheated myself out of that last segment of sleep. Somehow, that 30 minutes seems like a huge amount. I think its just the principle of knowing that you've undershot the boundary of your allotted sleeping time and somehow feel like that amount will set the wheels in motion for a day where you will be tired and not at your best. You feel like you will be at a disadvantage all day because you were deprived of this crucial last 30 minutes of sleep. I would much rather have awakened at 2am or even 1am when I could have nestled back in for a few more solid hours of good sleep than deal with the nerve racking notion that I want to sleep more but can't dare get into the good deep sleep for fear of sleeping through the alarm.

Just as I had feared, 435am came in an instant and I was still tired (somehow much more tired than I had been at 405am) so I played that game of "okay, i'm going to get out of bed in just a second after I sit here and reflect on the day ahead of me for a moment". That started out as a prayer as it often does, asking for strength and safety and wisdom and creativity and continued good health but it ended up with me drifting back into sea of Z's for another 12 minutes. I had to hurry if I were going to be the first person in the pool this morning. I arrived to find the steam coming off the water and the middle lane wide open, which didn't quite move me to do the Tiger Woods fist pump, but I cracked a slight smile. I quickly changed into my suit and headed out for the water. It was about 50 degrees outside so I was very eager to submerse myself in the water before steam started to come off of me. I lowered myself into the water and while adjusting my goggles they snapped off. Now, my body was warm, but my head and neck had not yet been in the water so I was getting cold.

I cinched the strap back on the left eye to an appropriate setting and then re-adjusted them to my face once again. Perfect, or at least it seemed so for the next lap and a half until they popped off again. I felt like Michael Phelps in his Olympic race when he had the eye wear malfunction and he started to take in massive amounts of water, only I was not swimming very fast and millions of people were not watching. Really, those were the only differences. It was at this moment when I decided that I might be on to a theme for today's blog entry. Right there at 520am in middle lane of the outdoor lap pool at Club One on 12th Street in City Center, I had the epiphany that this might be the harbinger for the rest of my day.

I finished my quarter mile without any further incident, got dressed and went upstairs to lift weights. It was here that I would let a 45 pound weight slip from my fingers in slow motion. I watched in disbelief as it hit the floor...and not my foot. So shocked was I, having braced for the impact and held my breath in anticipation, that I neglected to get out of the way before it fell from its side edge down to the floor, or what would've been the floor had my left foot not been there. I didn't even scream or make a face, choosing instead to ball up my right fist and ferociously punch into my left palm while telling myself to shake it off. All of this excitement and its not even 6am yet. My boss is jetting off to London and I'm here having a Happy Monday/Welcome to December party and fielding phone calls from customers in Idaho and getting an earful about the formatting of my expense report. It looks like I ought to get the lemonade machine ready today.