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BEEP BEEP BEEEEEEEEEEEEP!

That would be the sound of my watch alarm rudely awakening me from deep slumber. I groan softly as my hands clutch toward said watch on my bedside table to shut it up. My groan becomes a bit more audible when the alarm shuts off of its own accord and I realise it's Ant's 4am alarm that's woken me and not my own 4.30am one. 

Gah.

Ant then commits the cardinal sin of one who dares have such a ridiculously early alarm by getting up ... and one minute later coming back to bed. 

I contemplate maiming him as payback for being woken 30 minutes earlier than necessary but instead decide to channel my energy into falling back asleep for said 30 minutes. Of course Mia picks that exact point in time to start coughing for 10 minutes before settling herself back to sleep. 

Sigh. 

Given all these early morning shenanigans, by the time my own alarm goes off I'm thinking 'CrossFit? CrossFit can go jump.'

Ant senses my weakness and, taking advantage of the fact there is no five-year-old in our bed for a change, rolls over and pulls me into his arms. This action is 10% love and 90% 'if you stay in bed too I'll feel less guilty about not getting up.' It's tempting to make him feel better about his laziness by gifting myself a sleep in, but I don't.

For whatever reason (most likely the fact that I pay for the class whether I go or not and $25 is a lot of money to set on fire) I drag myself out of bed, get dressed with my eyes still closed, throw some coffee in a travel mug and get in the car.

Big, fat drops of rain start to splash on my windscreen as I pull into the carpark at CrossFit and despite the fact that it's held indoors, those huge drops seem like a clear sign I should turn around and head back to the warm arms and bed I left behind a scant 20 minutes earlier.

But for whatever reason ($25?!) I park and make my way inside.

After the warm-up we go over the workout of the day and today it's one I did right back when I first started. 

Back then, every workout was both demoralising and demotivating for me because, despite always dialling every exercise back to its easiest weight or variation, I could never 'go hard' due to a complete lack of fitness and strength. Those who have done a CrossFit workout will know every workout has prescribed (Rx) heights, weights and variations for each activity. I can count on one hand the times I've done the the Rx anything for any workout. (You can imagine how well that sits with my *cough* competitive nature.)

Anyway, for today's workout I eyeball the prescribed weights for the things with weights and the prescribed height for the box jumps and out of habit start figuring out where I can dial things back. Then it hits me - I can actually lift that weight. I can actually jump that box height. Not easily, but I can do them.

Huh. When did that happen?

All of the sudden the lethargy and angst of the morning evaporate as I throw myself into the workout. I'm kind of freaking out because I honestly thought this time - the one where I could do a workout 'properly' - was months away. Fuelled by my excitement I work hard and by the end I am shattered. And it feels awesome to be so shattered (yes, I know, sorry, I'm THAT person).

Driving home I'm completely buzzy. Look what I would have missed out on by staying in bed!

So what's the moral of the story here? 

Well two things I guess.

The first is that breakthroughs do tend to happen at the most unexpected times. You can trudge along, rinsing and repeating for what feels like forever, and get to the point where you think 'what's the point' ... and then all of a sudden, all that consistency pays off.

Which brings me to point two - consistency is everything. Showing up is everything. I don't need warm arms to lure me back to bed at 4.30am because the truth is, I never ever actually WANT to get out of bed at that time (who does?!)

But the thing is, I do. 

I want to be fit and strong so I just do.

Time and again life shows me: consistency is so boring, but it's bloody effective.
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