I think it was zero degrees when I left the house for the first time this morning. That’s not even an exaggeration. I checked a thermometer and everything. Puddles were frozen over. It was very meekly snowing.
I still ran three miles.
As I’ve said before I’m a sucker for routine and whether that sounds good or bad I’m stuck with it. It means even when I can’t really settle into sleep and keep having creepy vivid dreams of drained swimming pools I know I’m just counting down the minutes until I have to get up.
I woke up at half two this morning feeling rested. It was still dark out but it’s still dark out when I leave the house so that was no big deal. The scary thing was I felt rested and prepared to get up and go off and do things. That’s a scary state of being for someone who spent his teens and early twenties not going to bed until that time.
I’m a creature of habit and I’m early to bed and early to rise.