Let me state for the record that I am a month away from turning 46, and I have never taken an exercise class earlier than nine in the morning. I prefer noon, in fact. I come from a long background of working nights—going to bed at five, not waking up at five. So, I have had an educational morning, to say the least.

It began with my alarm going off at 5 a.m.—a foreign sound since it normally goes off between 8 and 11. I shut it off quickly, and marveled at the fact that I was actually going through with this crazy idea. I then staggered to the kitchen, grabbed the coffee I had made the night before in preparation, and attempted to get dressed in the dark, as to be considerate to my still sleeping husband—not something I excel at, (dressing in the dark, or being considerate.) Half the coffee went all over my first outfit. It is not easy to pull on compression socks in the pitch black. I then relocated to my closet with the light on for my next outfit. This was the easy part of the morning.

Of course, I picked one of the coldest mornings in South Florida’s history to attempt this near-militant endeavor. Forty-eight degrees, and I had no idea my car needs a defroster. It may even have one, but I’ll be damned if I know where it is, much less how to work it. So, I drove with my windows down and my windshield wipers on for about twenty-five minutes, again, shocked at my courage. And, also astonished that it takes triple the amount of time to get to a destination when one does the speed limit. I never realized how many cops are on the road at 5:30 in the morning.

Even with my overall lackadaisical attitude toward life, I don’t like to be late, and I was pushing it, cursing the fact I couldn’t see for shit. Also cursing the fact that I ate leftovers from Capital Grille in the middle of the night. Not smart. If I were to be completely honest, I really didn’t feel that well, but I persevered.

I arrived, miraculously unharmed and relatively unscathed, surprising my instructor who probably couldn’t believe I had shown up only a few short hours after the Super Bowl party I attended. Ashley had been my inspiration to begin with, as great instructors motivate me.

Then the class began, and I took auto-pilot to the next level, learning something very important: the mind can work independently of the body. I can honestly say my body was a non-participant in an activity that is supposed to be rather physical. I mean, I was grooving to the tunes of Bad Company and Led Zeppelin, waking up every so often when Ashley switched it up to Rihanna, but I wasn’t completely sure I was peddling. Had it not been for the occasional glance at my iWatch that didn’t shut down, or simply break out of spite, there would have been no evidence and zero proof I was one of the twenty people in the room. Again, leftover lamb chops are not always the best idea before dancing around on a bike.

I also discovered I don’t have the capacity to sweat that early in the morning. I left that theater room looking almost flawless, when I normally leave looking like I’ve just walked through a carwash. So that was a bonus.

Now ask me why I attempted this miraculous feat? Because I couldn’t make the later class. However, for better or worse, I’m left with the inner knowledge that I can do it. I might not have been an overachiever in class, but at least I’m sitting here writing about it from Starbucks, as opposed to the hospital. All in all, a successful morning. Maybe it won’t be my last six a.m. class.