I smell like pool!

I was rudely awoken this morning an hour before my alarm was set to go off by a stinky cat bum in my face. I got up and cleaned her up and realized that I was not going to get back to sleep. So, what do you do at 5 am on a Friday morning? My usual choices would have been
1. to climb back into bed, steal the covers back from my husband and lay there for an hour, perhaps falling back to sleep 15 minutes before the alarm would go off
2. to head into work, getting there almost 2 hours early
3. to fall back asleep on the sofa in front of the tv and wind up running late, panicked and grumpy.

Now I have a new choice to add to that list: go to the gym. A little over a month ago I joined a fancy schmancy gym. The point of joining this particular one, the most expensive in my city was to do exactly what I did this morning. They are open pretty much 24/7 and there is a women's only pool there that is open from 4 am to midnight every day but Sunday. I was in the pool this morning by ten to six and swam lengths for a half an hour, before relaxing in the hot tub for a few minutes. I was showered and on the road to work with a breakfast smoothy from the gym's coffee bar by 7 am.

Once upon a time, even if I had had this option, I wouldn't have taken it. Now I'm finding that movement, whether it's a Monday night Zumba class, a lunchtime walk with a co-worker, or an early morning swim, is becoming a necessity for me. It's a really great feeling, and is a reawakening of how I used to feel many years ago when I danced fifteen hours a week. What's really neat to realize (as I did in the pool this morning - swimming is also a great time for thinking) is that I am also not restricting myself to one moving thing a day. I didn't think "Well, I could go for a swim, but I'm planning to go to belly dancing tonight, so I don't really need to." So today, I swam, and I'll go for a walk at lunch, and I'll go to belly dancing tonight. Tomorrow I'll go to a Pilates class. I may not get to the gym on Sunday, but I may wake up feeling the need to move, and if I do I will, but if I don't, I won't beat myself up over it (which is also a new thing - giving myself permission to do exactly what I need to do for me).

I am really enjoying the discovery of me, and my body, and what it is still capable of, even after all the years of struggle and neglect and pain.

I don't want to miss a thing

Which is a mediocre Aerosmith song, but that doesn't make it not my truth.

I'm working full time, married to someone who works an opposite shift leaving us just one or two days a week to be married in. I start my first class towards a Project Management Certificate at a local college this coming Wednesday. I have just joined a local gym, and love it, and also have committed to giving them money for at least a year. I have a very active social life - I'm out minimum three nights a week having tea, knitting, watching movies/tv with friends. I am responsible for the well being of 5 cats and a very old dog, and doing stuff like making sure we have clean underwear and dishes. I also have a brazillion ideas for things I want to make - fibre, jewellery, food, clothing, children.

One would think that this would be more than enough to keep me busy. And it is. There are days when I feel overwhelmed and don't want to get out of bed (but I do).

And yet....

Today I sent off an email to the director of a new-to-me local theatre company asking if they are going to be holding a second round of auditions for their summer festival.

Because although it will run me ragged, I don't want to miss a thing. I want to grab all of life by the tail and ride it until it shakes me off, or I bring it down under me.