I’m lying in bed, eyes barely open. I read the blurry red letters. 3:45 am.
The reason for being awake is simple. I am filled with anticipation. My alarm is set to go off at 5am. Often dreaded, sometimes splendid, my alarm is a call to action.
Some people wake up instinctively. I wake to consider my plans. My body knows of the alarm and inside it stews fighting between snooze and action. It is easy to go with the flow, resist change, and just keep on sleeping. In the moment the effects of this decision are obvious. Sleep = good. More sleep = better.
Hours later the day starts all fuzzy like I’ve awoken from a coma. Having overslept the alarm I’m on the verge of being late to work. My body is still moving slowly, ripped from the simple slumbering state. Forcing down breakfast and running out the door, my body is deprived of endorphins. I miss the post-run feeling in my legs as I sit at my desk. I miss the orange glow of sunrise. I miss the feeling that I’m getting the most out of each day.
My decisions come full circle when I am yet again laying in bed. This time the clock reads 10:30 and I just can’t seem to fall asleep. I want to be asleep. I want to rest, to wake up invigorated. How many minutes will pass before I no longer remember checking the glowing red digits of the clock. Without an outlet for my energy I am denied sleep and enter back into the vicious cycle.
I set my alarm for 5 am again and wonder if I will get up to run. If I keep trying I’m bound to succeed.