Wake Up

Before I married my wife I’d say my schedule was pretty normal, compared with the rest of humanity. Like most people, I got up at 5:00 AM, ran seven or eight miles, cooled down with a little yoga and got ready for work. I wasn’t training for a triathlon, but I was doing a lot of photo shoots for Speedo, so staying fit was important to me.

But I wasn’t living what I’d call “an active lifestyle”; I wouldn’t say I “loved” the outdoors or fitness or being active. I hadn’t run a single marathon. Not one. 

Good grief, I didn’t even know what Pilates was! (Let alone how to pronounce it!)! 

Say it with me: L-O-S-E-R. I’ll be the first to admit it. 

But then my life changed. In the grocery store. I saw this woman (my future wife) reaching for something in the frozen foods (found out later it was a tofu burger). She had these cute little pants on (what I later learned were lululemon pants), and I said to myself—

Well, first I said to myself, “I want to start modeling those pants!” (The men’s version, I mean.) And then I thought, “No. She’s the one who needs to start modeling them.” 

So basically it was love at first sight. She in her lululemon pants, me in my spandex stationary bike pants—I’d just come from a spin class, still footing my special bike shoes that clicked on the floor as I walked towards her.

The rest is history, which gives me an opportunity to jump to the real reason for blogging today. I want to tell everyone what time I get up at every morning.

My wife and I get up at 2:00 AM. Does that sound early? Maybe for some lazy ass people it does. But my wife and I live a very active lifestyle—physically, intellectually, spiritually, sexua— 

First we read for an hour. I like fiction and poetry, she likes historical biographies—presidents of the United States, world leaders, famous philanthropists, ancient explorers, Jesuit missionaries. Then we run together for an hour—ten miles/six-minute pace (unless she’s feeling competitive, then a little faster) from three until four o’clock; but always with a purpose, this running, always with a triathlon to look forward to.

5:00-6:00: Pilates (Mon/Wed/Fri) and Yoga (Tues/Thur/Sat).

From six until seven my wife bakes bread, which she drops off at a couple of different shelters later in the day. Me, I’m usually taking care of a little bit of self-grooming (if I’ve got a photo shoot, that is) waxing, moisturizing, those sorts of things—trying to get them done before the kids get up at seven, because then all hell breaks loose and there’s no chance for it then.

I could go on, but the rest of the day really isn’t that interesting, not when the activities aren’t all hinging on the fact that I got up at 2:00 AM to begin them. Don’t get me wrong, we’re both busy as hell, doing what we can and must to make time for swimming and weightlifting, our involvement at community events and fundraisers, not to mention the little league baseball, soccer, basketball, ballet, and music lessons that all four of our children are involved in. 

Like I say, busy-busy. Not long ago we decided we had no choice but to limit our children to one super-expensive talent developing activity per day per child. Not because we felt like the activities were beginning to cost too much (they weren’t; and besides, anything for our children’s development, anything—a commitment my wife and I made several years ago), but because it was just humanly impossible, with only two SUVs at our disposal, to transport our four kids to twelve different practices/games/matches within the same two or three hour block. 

Friends sometimes tell me that my wife and I do a lot. “You guys do a lot,” they say. And I admit, this compliment does make me feel good. But we don’t do a lot. We just love life—that’s what I tell my friends, and that as a consequence we live active lifestyles. 

If I can inspire one person to train for a marathon, then this blog will not have been in vain. Or to wake up before seven. Or to just plain love life!

This last photo (above) was taken during my last shoot. I'm the guy in the black shirt, third to the back. 

I forgot to talk about my wife’s rock-climbing. She got me into that too! (I love you, honey!)