Since I have moved I’ve been getting out of bed much earlier than I usually do. I don’t know if that is the aftermath of a very long period of jet lag, it may be due to the warm morning temperatures. Regardless, most nights I have been in bed by 10pm and wide awake by 8am. No alarm and no need to force myself to get up.
It feels fantastic.
The sun is a huge stimulant for me. It almost invites me outside, a bit like a moth to a flame. Knowing that the temperature stays the same when I open the doors and windows feels great too. Even when I was in the UK, seeing the sun burst through motivated me more than five cups of coffee… I just don’t need to put more layers on to walk outside here.
Along with the sun, there is the knowledge that I’m in a new environment. Everyone I say good morning to is a completely new person, one I haven’t met before. The accents and the local lingo I’m picking up as the days go by. The little differences in lifestyle I’m seeing and breakfast habits. I remember how I used to feel waking up on Christmas Day as a child, a feeling that is very hard to recreate or rekindle. Waking up in a new country is probably the closest I can get to that excitement when I first open my eyes.
It’s quite shocking how much of the day we lose sleeping in. It’s currently 10.23 at the time of typing this post, a time of day that I would often not see due to being fast asleep. That was before I started travelling and when pretty damn demotivated. I would sometimes sleep a further two hours before the realisation that I’m wasting my day would kick in. I don’t want to know how much sleep that accumulates over a lifetime.
But here I am! Yesterday I managed a 10km run, being beachside certainly helps with that.
Aaaand my French toast has arrived. Nutella, coconut flakes, strawberries, bananas, syrup and cream. A treat, after all if there is no reward what is the point in the effort? It’s all about the balance!