First, I’d wake when my body had had enough sleep; I wouldn’t be jolted by the irksome 5:15 a.m. wake-up screech I usually hear (followed by my back-up cell-phone alarm).
I imagine the room would be darkened thanks to stormy weather outside, so I’d be rubbing my eyes as the weak sun peeked behind the clouds around 7:30, and laze around in bed watching “The Today Show” for an hour or so.
Then, since I would have slept in real pajamas (vs. sleeping in clean gym clothes so I can just wake and go) I’d change into my workout clothes. I’d ignore my digital Tanita scale in the bathroom while getting ready; she has no purpose in my dream day.
I’d hit the gym for a nice, long workout including cardio and weights, but I would stop when my legs and arms started to fatigue–not when I’d burned X calories or been working out for X minutes. Because I wouldn’t be rushing to work, I’d have all the time in the world to take a break and reassess, stretch, etc. I’d leave the gym with a spring in my step, not rushing for the door.
Back home I wouldn’t need to go grocery shopping, clean or do laundry like I do most Saturdays when I get back from the gym, because on this dream day (during the week!), all our clothes are clean and folded, every room is spotless, and the fridge is stocked. Continue reading “A (Solo) Dream Day”