Work It

We all face it at one time, yes it's 4:30 on a cold damp november morning. I'm stumbling down the stairs to the kitchen, my brain not in gear my eyelids still stuck at half-mast i'm suddenley overcome by the inpending pain and the feeling of doom why do i do this to my self day after day. I know something isn't wright, but i can't put my finger on the problem. Then, right before i take my first sip of coffee, it hits me: it's leg day.

In a little over an hour, I'm going to have a couple hundred pounds of iron across my shoulders as i squat up and down like a jack in the box who can't decide whether he wants to be in or out of the box. It's not enough that i drag myself out of bed into the weight room at this early hour i have to do the heavy ugliest exercises when i get there. Maybe when im done i could walk barefoot over moulton lava, or maybe smarter.

A short while later, as the second cup of coffee kicks in, the morning haze lifts from my brain and i start thinking more clearly: No one is forcing me to do this. This whole wakeing-up-before-dawn business is entirely self-inflicted. I could just hit the snooze button a few dozen times, or not evan set the alarm at all.

Does this sound like you there are so many of us who suffer all in the name of sport & fitness.