Mulling in the morning.

4:47 am Alarm is screaming at me to wake up.

4:52 am More blaring alarm noises. Puppy Bella is annoyed that I’ve disturbed her sleep. Stumble out of the bedroom to get ready for the gym.

4:59 am Have washed my face, brushed my teeth and dressed in my gym clothes. Now struggling with a ponytail that does not want to cooperate. Am bothered that after three attempts, I cannot get the funny bump on the left side to lay flat. Give up.

5:03 am Gather necessary supplies – water, iPod, headband, lock.

5:06 am Finish tying running shoes and put on winter coat. And gloves – looks frightening cold outside.

5:08 am Am correct – air outside feels arctic. I wonder if I could get frostbite during the 50 foot walk to the car. I wonder if this sort of weather inspired the person who created Mr. Freeze from Batman. I wonder if it’s possible that I could will the car to move closer to me instead of me moving closer to it.

5:10 am I fail in my attempt to telepathically move the car. Which I start shortly thereafter to be greeted with that annoying techno remake of Heaven blaring on the radio at level 47. Note to self to remember to turn the radio down when I come home from work and park the car to avoid this scenario again tomorrow. Both head and heart are not prepared this early in the morning for music that could bring on a seizure.

5:14 am Arrive at gym and park right outside the door. Wonder, as I walk in, if the people who work there, and see me five days a week before the sun rises, think I’m crazy. Or just frightening in general, which I must at least appear to be. Coordinated movements haven’t kicked in, I have no make up on and I can barely muster a response to their greetings.

5:17 am Struggle to take fleece pants off, the ones that I put on over my shorts so I wouldn’t freeze on outside. Try to take them off one leg at a time, while still standing up, but end up flailing and falling against lockers. End up having to sit down on a bench and pry pants over my shoes. Embarrassing, but fortunately, no one else is there to witness.

5:19 am Stand on treadmill, getting ready to run. Have turned the mini-TV on my treadmill to MTV and have covered the mileage meter/clock/calorie calculator with a towel. Magically, maybe if I can’t watch the clock during the entire run, the time will go faster. Unwrap headphones for the iPod.

5:20 am Feel rush of hot air. Look up and see the man who’s vacuuming the gym floor, with one of those portable vacuums worn on your back, behind me. Apparently, I have already let off a lot of dust that must be cleaned up. Immediately.

5:21 am Turn treadmill up to 6.3 miles per hour. Start listening to The Choice is Yours by the Black Sheep.

5:24 am Vacuum man back. How could I have made the treadmill/area around me dirty in the last four minutes?

5:25 am Black Sheep song over – manually change iPod to play Love Like This by Faith Evans. Am reminded of that movie Save the Last Dance. Wonder why they never made a sequel.

5:26 am Watch Don’t Bother video by Shakira on my mini-TV while still running. Wonder how Shakira managed to get her boyfriend’s car into that impound lot with no one noticing, especially given the spotlight that stays on her the whole time she’s there.

5:27 am Watch Shakira crush car and see boyfriend flail. Funny. Girl power! She must have taken lessons from the Spice Girls.

5:30 am Faith Evans song over – manually change iPod to play I Love Rock ’n Roll cover by Britney Spears, infamously sung in her movie debut “Crossroads.” Oscar-worthy performance.

5:31 am Hot air again. Vacuum man has returned. What is going on behind me!?! Is this really necessary?

5:33 am Hot air still blowing. Wondering if this is a nasty plot to get a rise out of me, or to convince me that normal people don’t come to the gym at this hour. Feel flustered, legs hurt, am tired. Ohhh, Death Cab for Cutie video on TV! Heart rate returns back to normal.

5:35 am Manually change iPod to play songs from my Good Footie Mix, named in honor of my right foot when it healed from last year’s stress fracture. Play Shake Ya Tailfeather by Murphy Lee, Nelly and P. Diddy.

5:39 am Realize this is a long song. Very long. Tailfeather is tired of shaking.

5:40 am Song over! Switch to Breathe, Stretch, Shake by Mase. Peek under the towel to see how far I’ve gone – still a bit shy of two miles. Haven’t I been on this machine for at least an hour already?

5:43 am Rumors by Lindsay Lohan on the iPod. Officially ends the streak of music I had been playing in an effort to recapture my experience at PURE in Las Vegas a few weeks ago. Sigh.

5:45 am Lindsay’s tired of rumors staring. And sick of being followed. As am I, as vacuum man is back again.

5:46 am Ohhh, look at the TV! It’s that "Love Links” commercial with Kate from Lost!

5:47 am On the iPod, Jagged Edge wants to know Where the Party At. I, too, would like to know that the same thing. Perhaps I was not invited.

5:51 am Determine that the party is definitely not here, at the gym, on the treadmill. But I have completed three miles and drop the speed to 3.8 while I catch my breath.

5:55 am Move into the weight room and collapse on the mat. Am annoyed when I catch a glimpse of my messed up ponytail in the mirror, which has not inexplicably fixed itself. Complete 60 sit ups before moving on to machines.

5:57 am Bicep machine. Is 12.5 pounds really the lightest setting I can choose? Sit down where indicated and stare at the choices, trying to will a 5 pound option. I am unsuccessful.

5:59 am Finish bicep machine and move to tricep machine. Feel confident I can handle the 12.5 pound minimum on this machine. But not necessarily with Fly by Hilary Duff playing in the background.

6:03 am I persevere and don’t fly away, just as Hilary has requested. Workout complete! Go to the locker room and gather belongings. Does anyone know where the party at?