Tomorrow morning is a walking morning. A friend and I walk for 45 minutes or so three mornings a week. She comes here at 6:30 and we head off into the village, walking one of a number of routes that we have worked out, walking and talking as we get in some cardio and work up a good sweat.
I hate it. And I love it.
Tonight, knowing I need to get up and walk in the morning, I am not happy about it. I don't like getting out of bed and I don't like exercise and I don't like sweating. Tonight I hate it.
Tomorrow about 9am I am going to love it. By then I will have gotten my exercise in, washed my hair, put on make-up, and I will be feeling proud of the fact that I got up early and walked. In fact, I will most likely be feeling a bit superior about it. But mostly I'll be glad to know I did what I needed to do for my health, and that feels better than everything else.
So tonight I am not happy. But tomorrow I'll be very happy. And thus my love/hate relationship with it all.