On developing new habits…

I rolled out of bed to the 4:30am alarm. Well…”rolled” might be exaggerating just a bit…first I had to dislodge my right arm from it’s prop/pillow/support required at the moment while sleeping due to my rotator cuff surgery.

Even THAT required a preliminary step…as “Blossom” the dainty little Siamese girl cat, has determined that the “nest” for my arm also suits her just fine and she tends to curl up there. Works for me. Keeps the arm warm. It’s sort of weird that she’ll park her butt on the ice-pack…but hey, cool buns. Apparently a good thing. Cats are weird.

Oh…and Geronimo…the big orange cat…seems to have decided he’s a fully functional leg warmer so HE had to be dislodged as well.

So…”rolled” was more like, “Ack! Ugh! Ow! Alright, you…move your big orange butt, and,” *shrugs shoulder* “you little girl, move before you get squished!”

Then, since the arm won’t work that way at the moment…slowly sit up, swing my feet around…and use the OTHER arm to shut off the damn alarm.

Ugh. So. Yeah. Rolled out of bed to the 4:30am alarm. Managed to shut it off at 4:32am.

I stagger into the kitchen, mix up my workout shake (protein shake) and set it to chilling in the fridge. That stuff REALLY tastes a lot better if you give it a few minutes to “age” and chill it.

Then it’s off to the shower to do that deed.

I grab shorts and socks and watch a bit of news while “assembling” that end of myself…the news seems to indicate the world is still out there and doing its thing so…

…back to the dresser for a black t-shirt. Those that know me, know these comprise the vast majority of my wardrobe. I, in fact, tend to purchase them in a case-lot.

My dress code is something like:
Black jeans and…
White or graphic t-shirt, possibly ripped/stained — about to get dirty and/or bloody and work my ass off on some project.
Black t-shirt — workout, work (at work, my concession to corporate dress code is that they are “pocket” tees), and pretty much everything else.
Button down shirt (usually black) — Formal wear.
Suit — You should run. Somebody’s dead…or about to be.

Anyway, grabbed the t-shirt and the arm sling…since due to the surgery/recovery I am prohibited from raising the right arm at the moment beyond about 40 degrees…and I can’t step out of the house without the sling…I was standing there trying to figure out JUST HOW I was going to don the durn t-shirt.

Bluntly…it’s not possible. A button down shirt or nothing.

“But,” says I to the cats, “I can’t work out in formal wear!”

THIS is the point where I remembered/realized that I was NOT working out today…as I am prohibited (doc’s orders) from doing that until out of the sling (about 5 more weeks) as the tendons are healing to the bone and we can’t risk tearing them off again.

Not even hard cardio. Nothing that might jostle the arm. Also supposed to be favoring the OTHER shoulder as it needs surgery too and and any further damage I do to it makes the surgery more difficult/severe. Plus, I sort of need it functional at the moment.

So, yeah. No workout. Not news and not new. You’d think even in my sleepy-headed “O-stupid-thirty” in the morning state I’d have realized this sooner since I’d spent fully half my efforts this morning dealing with and being careful with the arm…

Habits. Sigh.

But wait…WHY did I set the alarm? I was at least awake then…

Oh, yeah. Gotta work early today.

“Well dammit!”

What the heck was I supposed to do with a perfectly good protein shake?

“And,” my body was screaming, “You have GOT to do SOMETHING physical!!!”

Mmmm…slow, delay, body weight squats in the kitchen…those won’t jostle the arms.

They DO amuse the cats though. They stared wide-eyed for a few minutes…but they both went back to bed before I hit 50 reps.


I drank the shake in the car on the way to work. That’s a neat trick…with the right arm/hand useless and jammed in a sling.

Had you told me this time last year that I would be jonesing for my morning workout, I’d have laughed in your face.

Heck of a difference a year can make…

…and I like it.

I’ll see you on the road.

Daniel Meyer

You can read more about my fitness journey here.

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