(disclaimer: I got this image from Bree Wee's blog a while ago. I think its originally from the Post Secret website.)
Every day is a gift. Even if that gift is an average day. In an average town, in middle america.
I need to be reminded of this. Hourly.
Every hour that I spend commuting. Every hour I spend in a cubicle. Every hour that I'm not outside playing. Even if it is -6F.
'Tis the season for counting our blessings. And snot freezing right in your nose, like little frozen presents from santa.
Hey santa, you know what else I'd like for Christmas? A workout. I realize that might be something more of a Christmas-freaking-miracle at this point, but I used to be an athlete. Really. I have the water bottles rattling around in my car to prove it. Could your reindeer please pick me up and get me to a yoga class one of these days? Because I'm counting down the days until I head back to the mountains and I fear I will have lost any kind-of "mountain girl" cred I might once have (barely) been able to pull off.
I don't want to spend my precious (now limited, grr) mountain days chasing after my 10,000-feet-of-elevation-living hard bodied friends. Or worse, sitting out a few runs between joe-corporate-chained-to-my-desk gaper "touron" and his buddies at the slopeside bar. NO FUN.
But lately there do not seem to be enough hours in my day to keep up with it all. And admittedly the first thing that goes is the workout. Because working out is HARD in the middle of winter in middle america. I sit at a desk all day. Its dark when I get home. I don't have a gym. We just had a blizzard that has effectively made every walkable surface a skating rink.
Should I go on? I could. I'm REALLY good at excuses. But I should really get back to that "to do" list now so that maybe I can squeeze in a workout tomorrow. Yes. Tomorrow. There is always tomorrow. Tomorrow will be yet another precious day not to be taken for granted.
