Every morning, Monday through Friday, I have a distinct routine.  It's not riveting, but it's comfortably mine.  You probably have one too.  Some of you have routines that might be highly dissimilar to mine though.  Especially the getting up early part.

I'm not long to stay in bed.  Sleep eludes me many nights.  Between several disease structures at play, menopausal malarkey, and quite simply just wired to not need much sleep, I don't sleep well or long most nights.  Any more I count it a home run night's sleep if I don't have a night sweat and get more than 5 hours of uninterrupted sleep.  Those hit em out of the park good sleep nights are rarities similar to a solar eclipse.

It's no wonder I am ready for morning when night times are so damn crappy!  I love mornings and am always grateful to get up and start the day.  I do not need to depend on an alarm clock or the crutch of a snooze button to wake up.  There is a slight variation in my internal clock's wake up time, 5:00-5:15 a.m.  Once my eyes are open, I am full boar ready to start the motor running and talk in full sentences.  My husband says he occasionally will turn over in bed to find me wide awake.  "HI!", is what he claims I say, as if I am raring to go!   If some cars can go from 0 to 60 mph in 3 seconds, I go from asleep to wide awake with one open blink of an eye.  He has lost more sleep living with me than he collectively got in the 52 years before he met me! 

This morning I woke at 5:08 a.m.  I looked at the clock and then laid there, not because I wanted to sleep more, but because I didn't want to get out of a warm bed.  After I pulled back the covers, I headed to the bathroom, raised the toilet lid and did my morning pee.  I brushed my teeth, looked closely to see what aging had occurred overnight (corn grows overnight too just ask a farmer) and thought random thoughts like; I need to use my teeth whitening strips or quit drinking coffee. Why do I have so many small vertical aging lines around my lips?  It's not like I ever smoked.  Maybe I need injections?  No, then I'd end up looking like Lisa Rhina.  Not good! Am I going to get this bathroom painted this week?  I opened the right sink drawer to see my plethora of lipstick and lip balm.  I picked up Burt's Bees champagne and put a couple rounds on my lips.  Ah, that's better! 

I left the softer of the two lights in the bathroom on for when Doug got up at 6 a.m. I walked across the hall to the spare bedroom where my bathroom scale sits [don't ask me why it's there exactly....I suppose because I don't have the bathroom completely done yet] and touched the on button with my right big toe, waited for the beep, stepped on the scale, waited for the beep again, stepped back down, waited for another beep and bent low to read the digital screen.  I don't wear glasses when I weigh myself [or most any time to be honest] so I can't see the digital numbers from 5'5" away.  You might wonder why I weigh myself daily.  I find it's easier to stay on target, or make a slight adjustment, if the target is known daily.  Simple principle. 

I look for my white low slung sweats and a sweatshirt on the bottom shelf in my closet and slip my slippers on. We keep the house at 65 degrees overnight in the fall/winter/early spring. I Phone and bottle of water from my side of the bed in hand, I descend the stairs.  I use the remote to turn on the lighted tree in our living room.  En route to the kitchen, I stop at the digital thermometer to bump the heat up to 69 degrees.

Before I brew a cup of coffee in the Keurig, I take my pill.  If done out of order I can easily forget whether I have taken that pill or not!   I brew a cup of coconut macaroon in my reusable Keurig filter and count to 4 while pouring in my lactose free organic half and half.  That delicious cream cools it down too much so I heat it up for 20 seconds in the microwave.  I like my coffee hot! 
Sometimes I beat the paper carrier's delivery of our paper and have to wait on the paper.  I sit on the couch and peruse email, the weather app, Face book until I get disgusted with it.  I mentally plot out my running path which starts around 6:15 a.m.  At 6:00 a.m. I turn the stairway light on and call, "Baby!  It's time to get up."  I hear rustling of covers and the squeaking of the wood floors above me.  Two small baby spoons of sugar in Doug's cup and I brew him Paul Newman's Special Blend roast coffee.  It's sitting on the counter as he slowly plods down the stairs.  He doesn't wake up quite as perky as I do.

We both sit on the couch, peruse news, read the paper, and just be with each other before the day takes us away.  I leave him 15 minutes or so later, change into my running clothes and head out in the dark morning. The outdoors compels me to come out in it.  I cannot stay indoors for more than a night's sleep!  He says the same thing daily, "Baby, have a good run and be safe and careful!"  I giggle to myself and think of my life before him.  I ran when I wanted to and didn't need someone to take care of me or tell me to be careful.   Once in awhile I remind him of that, though grateful I am that he loves me enough to say it!

I run my miles where it seems I usually encounter a dumb ass not paying attention driver in the dawnish darkness.  My usual response is to stand in the road and flail my arms at them as they drive by or from the safe perch of grass where I have darted to avoid being hit!  Some days I see wild turkey, fox, a strange lady in her bathrobe and tennis shoes walking fast down the road, a couple of old ladies walking their dogs.  I see the same bright yellow mustang who revs his engine every morning as he passes me.  Every morning it scares the shit out of me and then I laugh at his macho male behavior.  I think and think and think some more.  I pray for our kids and our families.  I suck in the outdoor air hoping it will keep me going for the next 9 hours until I can be outside in it again.

Upon my re-entry to the house Doug greets me with, "How was your run?"  I tell him the same thing every day, "Babe, grateful that I can do it, that I did it, that it's over."   He has done his own routine while I am gone.  And then, we are off to the races once again doing our repertoire of repeating.

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