We’ve all been there. Scrolling through Instagram at midnight, stumbling upon a post of some impossibly perky individual greeting the sunrise with a green smoothie and a yoga mat. “Today’s a gift, that’s why it’s called the present!” they chirp. Meanwhile, I’m pretty sure my sleep-deprived brain just registered that sentence as “Blah blah blah kale, blah blah existential crisis.”
My Pact With My Alarm Clock (Spoiler: It Didn’t End Well)
I decided I’d had enough. I, too, would become one with the morning sun. I’d swap my nightly Netflix binges for peaceful meditation, my hurried toast for elaborate avocado creations (because apparently, that’s what morning people eat). I even downloaded a meditation app with a soothing voice that promised to awaken my inner chi or something.
The first morning went…surprisingly well. I mean, sure, I may have hit snooze a few (okay, five) times, and my meditation sounded more like a distressed walrus than a serene guru. But I made it out the door before 8 a.m., which felt like a victory in itself.
Let’s just say that my idea of “running” and theirs were two very different concepts. I spent most of the time wheezing in the general direction of the group, looking like a confused, sweaty mess. The only thing I successfully embraced that day was the pavement.