Have you ever wanted to be a writer?  Even a little bit.  Even when you were very young and the world was full of possibilities and the only limitations were created by your limitless imagination?  I did.  I have written and written and journaled.  But it was all for me, and occasionally a few select others.  I never found my “genre” I suppose.  Or maybe it was lack of effort.  Who knows.  But in an effort to be brave, I’d like to use this space to write a few words I’ve written years and years ago.  Not whole piece.  Just words and pieces of stories I like best.  You don’t have to read them.  You don’t have to like them.  This is just me, writing what’s inside…

My favorite character (mostly because I could see her so clearly):

“Sadie Sarillis.  My favorite alliteration.  She lived a life that most storytellers and poets write about.  I knew her as Ms. Sarillis, English and Drama teacher at our little country school.   I often imagined her to be in the witness protection program because I couldn’t think of any other reason for such an out-of-place persona to settle for this monotony I called home.  She defined eccentricity, which was a word I quickly became fascinated with in my adolescents.  Sadie made eccentricity seem like its own stand alone entity, taking on a life well beyond normal personality descriptions.  Maybe it was her way of reaching beyond small-town boundaries, without actually having to leave.  Leaving was something she found difficult, I imagine, considering she had never, to my knowledge, driven a car.  That is not to say she didn’t own one.  Like everything else in Sadie’s life, her car was the best her money could buy, but a little disheveled and long forgotten as another one of life’s tokens.  The joke around town use to be that Sadie was trying to buy her way into heaven due to multiple indiscretions she had lurking in her past, although what those were, nobody seemed to know.

Her classic, royal blue, roadster sat in her fade white barn, covered by a musty burlap tarp.  Like her car, Sadie preferred to stay in, surround by the mustiness of her life.  She never ventured out to find excitement, instead she embodied it.  She never left the house without every piece of jewelry prominently displayed on her plump hands and a oversized, brightly colored hat perched on her round, meticulously painted face.”

(first draft)

Come to think of it, one of my daughters is a very good artist.  Maybe I’ll give her this description and see if she sketch her into life for me.

I re-read a quote today I posted on an “inspiration board” of sorts back in 2014.  It’s from one of my favorite books, A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, by Donald Miller.  It goes like this:

“Here’s the truth about telling stories with your life.  It’s going to sound like a good idea, and you are going to get excited about it and then when it comes time to do the work, you’re not going to want to do it…but joy cost pain.”

For today I just want to wade through those words for a while and turn my thoughts to it, like my face to the sun, and soak it in.

Word of the day: AKRASIA

As of this time last week, I had no idea that word even existed.  It’s an ancient word thrown around by some good ‘ol Greek Philosophers like Socrates and Aristotle.  Here’s what it means:

“the state of mind in which someone acts against their better judgment through weakness of will.”

Now, I came across this word via Google.  It had gotten soooo interesting around here that I sat down on one of my most productive days (kidding) and decided to ask “Dear Google, why do I procrastinate?”  Google-the-wise then spewed forth link after link with answers.  One of which was this one.  Bestill my heart…how did he know me so well?

Low-and-behold the #1 suggestion in this article was “Design Your Future Actions”.  And I was like “what?!”  Wait, that sounds familiar.  Where have I heard that before?  Oh yea, that’s right.  I have a BLOG dedicated to finding ways to incite action/behavior and create the life you want.  (This would be where I put the “sarcastic, roll-the-eyes emoji” if I was texting this to you.  P.S. I love emojis.)   Have you ever had one of those moments when you realize everything you needed was right there?  At some point the “past you” set things up, neglected them (in my case), so the “future you” could be surprised when you rediscovered something you already had in your arsenal.  (Surprises from yourself can be the MOST fun.)

So here I am.  Back in the saddle again (for your listening pleasure).  Thanks Gene.  I have eased this idea of “designing” my life back into mainstream thinking.  January is as good a place as any to get a fresh start, and then trip over your good intentions, bloody up your nose a bit, start again, stub your toe and then start again in earnest.

I write this blog and put my thoughts out there, not because I have all of the answers (or even ANY answers), but because I do know all (or at least some) of the questions we ask ourselves.  Questions like:

“Why do I wake up feeling so sure of myself and fall asleep every night feeling so defeated?”

“How can friend “X” have enough drive to…start her own business…lose weight…be crafty…and other ad nauseam comparisons I make, but I don’t?”

“Why can’t I get it ALL right EVERY day?”  (i.e. If I focus on health, my house becomes a disaster, etc.)

“What’s wrong with me?”

That last one is a loaded question.  Loaded with guilt, anger, sadness and, sometimes, hopelessness.  It’s so heavy that, sometimes, I can’t move.  On those days I turn to books, friends, family and (of course), Google.  It’s on those days when I need someone else to tell me what the next step is, how to see myself, or just to know I’m not alone.  It’s on those days when my inner voice isn’t loud enough to overcome the “id monsters” in my head. (Id, as in Id, Ego, Superego)  I picture it like that scene from Horton Hears a Who where one voice isn’t loud enough to be heard….sometimes…sometimes, you need your whole village to come together.

So after reading those books and blogs and talking to friends and to family, here’s what I’m working on:

Creating events based on a list I wrote about six months ago (after reading The Happiness Project).  I listed all the things that made me happy and then a second list of things that made me unhappy.  Side note: pumping up bike tires made my “unhappy” list…must have had a bad run in with said pump right before writing the list.

On my list were things like:

Date night with husband

Time with friends

Helping someone/voluteering

Animals

And so on…

I took that list and started scheduling events that complimented the things that made me happy.  I’ve learned that if I wait for the right time, to see what else might happen (soccer games, baseball games, sick kids, dishes…) life will sweep up my days like a nor’easter wind and leave me with a rubble pile of yesterdays.

Happy Thing 1 – Dates with husband

*This one was easy (this time) because our church had a Parent’s Night Out coming up and we were actually free.  So I signed us up and texted my husband.  Done.

Happy Thing 2 – Time with friends

*Just as easily I texted one of my good friends and asked her to meet for coffee the following week.  Two birds in no more than 5 mins.

Happy Thing 3 – Volunteering

*This one is still in the making.  I have printed off local charities and contacted some of the organizers.  I am letting their needs help determine the day(s) I go.  I have written “PFA/PTL meeting at school” on my calendar and plan on attending.  I don’t have expectations, but sometimes showing up is all you need to do and fate does the rest.

Happy Thing 4 – Animals

*From about 9-years-old until Freshman year in college, I rode horses.  I was a Hunter/Jumper.  I haven’t ridden, or jumped, since the week I found out I was pregnant with my, now, 12-year-old.  It was a passion of mine when I was young.  So, I called a local barn and got the pricing on riding lessons.  I also told the lady way too much about my experiences with horse and my current fears of returning to it.  She was kind and listened.  This one is the scariest of my “to-dos” so far.  I heard I might break easier at this age.  I haven’t set a date, but I did pull out my old saddle and cleaned it up.  My helmet still fits, the boots…not so much.  Thanks to gravity (I assume) my calfs took more of a hit than my head when I decided to start my expansion experiment.  (Eye roll emoji…man I miss those little guys.)

So that’s it.  Pretty simple.  But sometimes it’s the simple gestures that make the biggest difference.  I have given these happy things a place on my calendar, which I think (I hope) gives them credence.  Like a doctor’s apt or getting my hair done.  As it is written, so shall it be.  (At least that’s what I’ve heard.)

I am not expecting that I will ALWAYS act on my better judgement and never have a “weak will”, but I CAN give credence to this word AKRASIA that exists in us all, call it by name and know how to address it when I kick it’s ass.

And that….is your Word of the Day.

Why yes, that title is a “Where’s Waldo” homage.  Thanks for noticing.  I digress…I’m powering through Thoreau’s Walden right now.  I was inspired to pick it up again because I’m also reading The Happiness Project.  I know the correlation seems weak on the surface, but the way my mind works it makes perfect sense.  I say “powering through” because it’s not a light read.  Every sentence, every page, takes an enormous amount of brain power.  Some, actually most of it, is verbose, but it’s the beauty of those occasional, quotable prose that make it worth the time.  I spend so much of my day thinking surface thoughts…what time do we need to leave, what’s for dinner, what bills do I pay, chores to do, texts to send; it’s a welcome workout for my atrophied brain.

But how do I assimilate the words from the quiet solitude of a single, 30-something author with the stark reality of an abundantly active and noisy house?  The more I read about his calm and solitude, the more anxious I get about the chaos around me.  As I read I think “I’m going to appreciate life.  Be serene.  I’ll probably glow with happiness…probably.” And then I put my lovely Walden book down, take the last sips of my luke-warm flavored coffee, unfurl my tucked legs and re-enter life like a…well, feels most like a bull in a china shop to be honest.    A life where my inner Wald-zen dialogue is forcibly downed-out by my external dialogue of “Stop yelling at your sister!”  “If you pin the dog down one more time…”  Or the consistent drone and ever-present background hum of “mom mom mom mom mom mom…” like the soft sputter of a boat motor trolling in the quietness of early morning.  And I am grumbling under my breath “DON’T YOU KNOW I AM ZEN!!  I AM ZEN DAMN IT!”  (Ok , so maybe I might say some version of that out loud too.  But it comes out in a more poetic, linguistic genius-type sentence like “STOP IT!!  STOP IT NOW!”)

But here’s the thing I know to be true in theory, but have yet to put into practice.  Peace is internal.  I, on the other hand, am only able to be zen-able (I think I might copyright that) if my external environment is quiet.  So, in a nutshell, I’m writing to say I am leaving and will be living forevermore in the spa at the Ritz Carlton.  Ahhh…zen.

Ok, so when Plan A of externally fortifying my zen doesn’t pan out, as my dearest husband assured me it would not, (there’s not enough Marriott reward points to sustain that plan) then what is Plan B?  Honestly, I didn’t have a Plan B…kind of thought Plan A was the only life line.  I focused hard on Plan A.  Complained about not having access to Plan A.  I whined.  I lay listless in tv-binge-worthy stillness, willing my environment (ie – everyone and everything BUT me) to get with the program.  IF ONLY my kids, house, husband, dog, etc would…(blank)…THEN I’d feel calm.  Then I’d find peace of mind and be happy.

But if I could pull one of my favorite quotes so far from Walden it would be…

“I know of no more encouraging fact than the unquestionable ability of man to elevate his life by a conscious endeavor.” (Thoreau)

And after reading this, I thought of another one of my favorite quotes, “No matter where you go, there you are.”  (I AM hard-pressed to think I would be the same “me” if I lived at the spa at the Ritz, but no matter…) So now I go forward with a new plan.  A plan where I turn my focus inward.  I cannot control what is around me, but I can deliberately choose (ie – make a conscious endeavor) to react differently to my environment.  I’m not saying this makes life perfect, but I guess I’ve realized I either have the choice to cling desperately to the Plan A OR I can be ok with Plan B, C, D, etc…and CREATE that space, internally, that gives me peace.  Sounds a bit hokey, I know.  But I am not a 30-something, single, wandering author.  Not that I won’t ever have those wonderful, peaceful moments of warm kid snuggles or quiet moments with my husband when all are asleep, but I guess I’m saying I am going to try harder to accept that, when things are a hurricane of activities, voices and chaos around me, I can still find that quite center somewhere inside of me.  My own, personal, Walden Pond o’ Peace (& Quiet).

 

I bought a pair of tap shoes once.

I was 38.  I hadn’t taken tap in 30 years.  And inexplicably, I bought tap shoes.  Why? I’m not sure.  I’m pretty sure it says something deep and foreboding about my inability to control my impulses and, concurrently, my slight addiction to Amazon.  I did wear them once.  I love the sound of tap shoes, but as it turns out, they’re quite exhausting.  And, like my daughter so aptly put it, “Tap shoes are like a piano.  If you don’t know how to use them correctly, they don’t sound that good.”

Touche.

I am way more surrounded by the the objects of my desires than the fulfillment of those desires.  I buy juicers to juice.  Blenders for smoothies.  Budget software for budgeting.  Journals for writing.  Paints for crafting.  Heck, I even pay for this blog software for blogging.  Thing is, as much as I’d like it to be true, none of these “objects” actually make things happen.  (Even though my trusted friends at the marketing company said they would!  They will NOT be receiving a Christmas card this year, that’s for sure.)  They are inanimate and costly and ALL of them take human interaction.  So I’m here to tell you, through thoughtful (and of course intentional) trial and error, buying things will NOT make you skinnier, healthier, richer, craftier or…a writer.  Turns out, I have to do that.  *Mind Blown*

BUT, on the bright-side (I’m also addicted to self-help books and perpetually trying to find the “bright-side”), all of these things are MUCH easier to buy than implement.  So if simply having the object (usually in 2 days time) was the goal –  winner!  And, good news is, if you ever decide to juice, blend, write, craft or blog…they’ll be right there waiting for you, like an old reliable, slightly overcomplicated, friend, when you’re ready to venture into the scary world of “doing” something….like, ummm, let’s say, writing a blog post.

 

We all know Google is an amazing resource.  And Siri.  And Alexa.  But none have quite given me exactly what I want.  Because what I want is not simple.  I want direct answers to my questions with all factors of my life taken into consideration.

For Example:

When I ask about how best to keep up with large(r) families, I mostly get religious blogs with people who have 7 or more kids (all homeschooled).  Or beautiful Pinterest posts of organized charts and cubbies and laundry rooms (I’m slightly suspicious that most of these people either do not have kids or “claim” to have kids, but really they are off in Switzerland at boarding school.)

• I have four.  Four, active, loving, energy-filled short people running around our abode.  Just barely considered a “large” family, but judging by my laundry room and grocery bill, we are definitely pushing the larger boundaries.  We are faith-based, but not overly religious (per say).  And I find I am more of a sucker for reading about and planning for our well-organized and run life rather than actual implementation.

When I research homeschooling (this is a new adventure we are pursuing…don’t ask me why, because I’m not sure…yet), I again get mostly religious blogs with some secular and most with an abundance of kids.  All of which are homeschooled.

• I have two kids in public school, 1 in private and am only homeschooling one of our kiddos and only for a year-and-a-half until we send her to private school for middle and high school.  I am not doing faith-based learning.  She was not struggling in school.  We love our public school and, in fact, I am (in a former life) a public school teacher.  We do not have any of the “normal” reasons.

When I plead with Google to show me how to work clean eating into our meal schedule, I get overly complicated meals with odd ingredients and small portions.  Where, because of the number of people in my house, I would have to grocery shop twice a week and cook, meal plan, grocery shop a majority of my days.

• I have six people to feed, four of which are kids (although not too picky…thank goodness), with 4-7 different soccer practices each week, two baseball practices, one gymnastics lesson (ALL inexplicably smack-dab in the middle of dinner time) and 2-4 games each weekend.  Not to mention the “normal” daily chaos of keeping up with six people, a house, a dog, multiple fish, two gerbils and a partridge in a pear tree (the partridge is free to a good home.  Just kidding, we don’t have a partridge…that I’m aware of.)

So how long will it be before I can enter my life’s complete demographics into Google, or Siri or Alexa and then, when I get my answers, I will just be given information that pertains to my life.  Yes, I know I could synthesize the information I get.  Take all that I read and figure out how to make it relevant to my life circumstance.  But is it too much to ask…in-between all the cooking, meal planning, grocery shopping, homeschool planning, laundry doing and sports running to have something NOT take an ounce of my intellectual stamina?  Please Google.  My brain is tired.

That is all.  I have to get back to making a grocery list of foods that Google told me were healthy and I get to imagine, for a brief second, that I will actually have the time and desire to cook all of it from scratch this week.  (*See above re: strong planning/weak implementation.)

Maybe I’ll ask Siri instead…

My whole life I’ve been told to dream big!  I could do anything I wanted.  The world was my oyster. (etc)  I was lucky to have such a large cheering section, many don’t have this kind of support and encouragement and can spend their whole lives overcoming doubt.  But what if, in an effort to tell our youth to dream big, accomplish it all, we neglect to teach them how to step small?  That sometimes the small steps are just as important as the big dreams, just as noteworthy, just as effective as a means to an end.

I am nothing if I am not a dreamer.  I dream up ways I can be better, do better…organize better, eat better, be kinder, gentler, more effective.  I love self-help, inspirational books and list-making.  I love to dream about “better”.  But then one day my dear husband wondered aloud, when do you stop reading, stop dreaming, and start doing?

Well huh…hmmmm…um…I don’t know?

I love dreamers and I think they make the world…better.  I do.  But often times, unless paired with a do’er, the dreamers can get lost amongst the “do’s”.  I wake up every morning (most mornings) with grand plans of what I will accomplish that day.  I end my day dejected and wondering what it was all for.  Hit repeat.  Here’s a bit of my dreamers-change-the-world-in-a-day to-do list I carry around with me all day: (Bare with me – it seems excessive, but it’s a pretty accurate, albeit absurd, picture into my mind.)

Get up earlier (tomorrow)

If I got up earlier we wouldn’t be rushing.

I should’ve set out the kids’ clothes last night (tomorrow)

Make breakfast

Make lunches (I should do those at night)

I need to workout, but if I workout I won’t have time to get the housework done

I need to get all of the laundry done.

I should be a better friend and invite people over

I need to look at our budget

I should really use the cash system and cut coupons

I need to reread Dave Ramsey’s book

What if I finally painted our bathroom to surprise my husband

Call the painter guy

I need to be better about reading to the kids at night

I need to cut back on my coffee

I wonder if I should start juicing

I need to read about going Paleo

I need to spend more playtime with the kids in the afternoon

I need to organize my volunteer work so it can be passed on to the next board member

I need to pray more about how I can help my church.  (I need to be better at prayer)

My desk is a mess, I should clean that

What should we have for dinner – I should cook more, it’d save us money

I should learn how to use my pressure cooker otherwise it was a waste of money, I am wasting food, we should eat more fruits and veggies

I should start a big clean out of my home and live more simply

If we didn’t have so much clutter I’d have more time, money, peace, etc.

I should make an effort to stay up later and talk with my husband tonight

Schedule a date night to keep my marriage strong

All of this passes through my head in a matter of minutes – sometimes over my morning cup of coffee.  I’m frozen with “needs and shoulda’s”.  I want my life to look EXACTLY like I think it should look – right here, right now.

And how my day actually looks…

Rush to get kids out door, quick kiss for the husband, rush home, answer e-mails, check Facebook (again), maybe snack, clean a little, read about how to be more productive and be a better person, review my to-do list (see above), debate about how to start, find something in my house I need to buy, go buy it (and 20 other things I didn’t realize I need), feel guilty for buying too much, eating too much, exercising too little, being too tired…and about half way through the day I’ve already given up and just start wishing away the second half of the day so I can start fresh tomorrow.

It’s exhausting.  And even the best of the dreamers have trouble keeping faith in their new-day dreams.

*Sigh*

That first step in a big dream can be debilitating.  What if I take that first step and…

it leads me down the wrong path?

it wasn’t what I dreamt it would be?

OR

*gasp*

it is HARD?!

BIG questions for such a SMALL step.  No wonder that first step crumbles.  Crushed under the weight of countless questions and doubt.

Today I am going to play tennis (small step).  I assure you, standing here in my overly-short tennis skirt, showing off my pasty white legs and overly-abundant thighs…I am questioning this choice with a frenzy that rivals the speed of light.  But it has been on my personal to-do list for years now.  It’s time.

Trust me, I have already planned an escape route, how I will excuse myself…may even resort to feigning leg cramps.  Hard to say.  I like to surprise even myself.

But I’m taking a step.  Today, I’m paring down my big tennis dreams of looking dreamy in my pressed white tennis outfit, gleaming white visor, tanned legs and high-end tennis racket and what I’m left with is…a nondescript grey tennis skirt, the ever-slimming black shirt, clunkier running shoes, a tennis racket belonging to my husband and a body that is, very likely, too big to be running around after a tennis ball for an hour.  But I’m going.  It may lead nowhere.  I may hate it.  I will assuredly be the least athletic one there.  Despite how heavenly that sounds to most, my confidence is wavering.  Must…stop…typing about it and DO it….

Wish me luck!

(P.S. – Playing tennis is not my biggest dream by any stretch.  It is simply the way I chose to practice taking those first steps.  I’m building up my “small step” endurance before I take on the life changers.)

 

**UPDATE** There was a tennis tournament today and so no group lessons.  Such is life.  Guess there is SOMETHING to be said for taking the time to plan and research. BUT I didn’t want to delete the post because it still stands true for the next time.  Plus, at least five people have now witnessed me sporting this outfit punctuated so prominently by these very white legs, so the secret is out…there’s no turning back now!

 

 

Once upon a time Langston Hughes set out to answer this in his poem.  I first read this poem in my late 20s, during my first year as a Teacher.  I was teaching my first novel, Raisin in the Sun.  The very first page of this novel thrust us into the quintessential question…what happens to a dream deferred?

“What happens to a dream deferred?

Does it dry up

Like a raisin in the sun?

Or fester like a sore –

And then run?

Does it stink like rotten meat

Or crust and sugar over –

Like a syrupy sweet?

Maybe it just sags

Like a heavy load.

Or does it explode?”

-Langston Hughes

So today, when I timidly pulled up this blog, my blog, after a long hiatus, this poem is what came to mind.  I stopped writing, because I stopped dreaming.  Sort of.

Months ago, right before my last post, I was starting to realize that the long run I was so proud of here resulted in a more serious, long-term injury.  (It’s painful to read and seems a lifetime away.)  I finally conceded to go to an Orthopedic doctor who promptly put me in my second boot in eight months.  My running was over.  Again.  I never officially cancelled my half marathon registration (I’m not even sure I can).  I just let it slip into oblivion.  My dream….deferred.

The second boot was a huge blow to my momentum and I’m not sure I’ve quite recovered from it yet, physically and mentally.  I had found a driving force, a passion, a purpose, and it seemed to be all gone.  I started incitinglife.com to document my transformation from non-runner to runner.  From lost to found.  I became depressed.  I had such grand plans, but they all hinged on this one journey and the journey was no longer mine for the taking.

But an inciting life and creating inciting incidences in our lives is not about the event, it’s about the journey.  It was never about running the half marathon, even though I made it about that.  The race was simply the symbol to represent my accomplishment.  The one I could show the world.  I envisioned the admiration of the stranger behind me at the stoplight when they spotted my 13.1 sticker on my tailgate and I was sure admiration and awe would ensue.  (Visions of grandeur anyone?)   A reward for my accomplishment, but not the accomplishment itself.   I let the elusive end take away my justification for the means and my elusion that the notoriety of my accomplishment was the end goal.  You see, if I had chosen my “reward” more thoughtful, like, let’s say,  health or energy (internal), instead of the sticker (external)….I would’ve found a way to my goal despite the obstacle.  It was never about the race (or it shouldn’t have been).  I made it about the race.  I chose wrong and it limited ability to overcome the setback.

So, my friend, sadly you will not find an answer from me on what happens to a dream deferred here.  I’m not sure.  And I couldn’t speak for the masses anyway.  For some, overcoming the obstacles to our dreams becomes the goal.  For some, the obstacles help chart a new and different (better?) course.  And for others, maybe me, we stand looking at the obstacles, analyzing, pouting about them, willing them away with little success.  But in the end I think I’ve realized a dream, my dreams, are never really completely deferred.  Not while I’m still around at least.  And sometimes, the journey for the dream we always thought would bring us happiness was simply acting as the catalyst to a new and better dream we hadn’t even thought of yet.

Wednesday morning I was too lazy to get up at 6am and fit my walk in before everyone was out of bed.  My “punishment” was doing it with the twins in-tow.  I’m not really good with numbers but, by my calculations, a double stroller, two 3 1/2 year-olds, two drink boxes, a bag of snacks and a bottle of water weighs approximately…hmmm…500 lbs?  Give or take a pound.  (I have a flare for the dramatic.)  What you are witnessing in the picture above is my first…wait…second running selfie.  (It’s telling me I spelled selfie wrong…like they are TOTALLY behind the times, right?  I mean, right?  And you know a 37-year-old always knows what’s up.)

I think the one of me is fuzzy because of the humidity…I’m not really sure, but it looks like I added the “soft and dreamy” editing.  I took it fast because I was in public and, honestly, a little embarrassed to be taking a selfie (I’m not the right generation for a high selfie-to-comfort threshold.)

This week I should be walking 50 minutes x at least 3 days.  So far I’ve walked twice:

Monday – 30 minutes/1.92 miles

Wednesday – 57 minutes/3.65 miles

It was suppose to be the big 60 minute walk, but my Map My Run time disappeared on my screen and so I just had to guess I had reached it.  I was off by 3 minutes.  So the plan is to walk Friday morning for 40-50 mins and then, hopefully do another 60 minute walk this weekend and I should be ahead of schedule.

It has been harder than I thought to continue walking.  When I do go out and walk I really have to fight the urge to jog.  I feel sooo slllowww walking.  But I am learning patience.  Something I know I lack in this arena.  How my brain works is, if I want to get fit, I should be able to attend one class and be done.  If I eat one healthy meal, I jump on the scale to see if it made a difference (slight exaggeration, but you know what I mean).  After all, I’m pretty sure eating one “indulgent” meal puts on at least five pounds.  Apparently it’s not true in reverse.  However, I’ve been injured in the past (shin splits and fractured foot) and I’ve given up before.  I was impatient with the process, the journey.

I wanted to get it over with, like pulling off a band-aid, because I knew it was going to hurt to change and the fear and apathy kept me stagnant.  I don’t think fear and apathy are only enemies to fitness goals.  They’re part of what keep most of us from seeing our goals through. I sold myself my own version of the magic pill infomercial.  True change, however, is Father Time’s close companion and only the passage of it and strength during it creates the change.  Honestly, it’s the challenges and struggles we overcome during change that provide us the solid foundation on which we can continue to build and grow.

So, walking it is.  Boring, unexciting, but effective walking.  At least during Florida summers I will break a sweat just walking down the driveway – makes me look efficient.