It happens every year. As sunrise comes later and later in December, my morning-person disposition gets replaced by that of a sloth. The thought of a warm bed is (quite inexplicably) much more attractive than that of a cycle tour to the gym in the freezing cold. My eyelids are too heavy to open without some help from a hot cup of coffee. That's why I haven't been to the gym a single day this week. Funny thing is, it's all in my head. I know that once I've dragged myself out of bed and put on my training clothes, the energy that I honestly believed I was lacking while I was lying under that cosy duvet suddenly resurfaces. That's how it works for me: the more I go out and do stuff, the more energy I get to go out and do stuff.
Strangely though, that mostly applies to going to the gym. Because when it comes to running or skiing, there is little resistance, no dread at the thought of leaving the flat. Only excitement at the prospect of spending some quality time outdoors.
Even when it's -20 outside and I'm about to exit the nice, warm car to go skiing. And this time, I didn't even fall!