When I laced up my sneakers, I had regrets.
When I pulled into the parking lot and it was still dark, I had regrets.
When I took off my coat and shivered in the early morning cold, I had regrets.
I began my warmup outside the community center in the parking lot that has become my gym since the pandemic began. My personal trainer walked up with a too-excited grin.
"GOOD MORNING! Are you ready for a tough one today?"
I groaned. I am not a morning person. I usually work out after school, but today this was the only time that worked. I was not thrilled.
"We're doing 100's!" He clapped and watched my reaction with glee.
100 repetitions each of 10 exercises. It's a challenging workout, both mentally and physically. I prefer short sets with lots of transitions, or high intensity intervals in my cardio workouts- sustaining one thing for too long bores me.
I picked up the medicine ball for my first set. By 40 reps, I had gotten into a rhythm, and became almost mesmerized by the smack of the 20 lb ball slamming into the pavement. Counting the reps started to feel almost like meditation. Keeping it up got tough at 80. A slow-motion version of the movement I began the set with. The last 10 were brutal. The 100th rep felt like a victory, though.
"What's next?" I asked. No more regrets about my morning workout.