Balance and Strength

Against everything I believe to be holy and good in the universe, I finally resigned myself to the fact that it was time for a gym membership.  Off I went, innocent friend in tow, to fall prey to the "its that time of year" high-pressure sales pitch.  Seriously.  This woman was intense.  Clearly someone is paying her by the number of mortal, slacker souls she can get to sign contracts with the big, corporate, workout devil.

Luckily, we had done our research ahead of time and knew that this particular stink-cave of torture was the right one for us, so sign on the dotted line we did.  Through some maneuvering we were able to sign for just six months at a rate that's really no more than we were already spending at the bar on those "OMG, I need a drink" post-work attempts at stress relief.

When you look at it that way, we're coming out ahead.  Less money spent.  Calories burned instead of ingested.  And arguably cuter butts and improved outlooks on life.

Ok, that last one might be a stretch.  But a girl can dream.

Let it be known, I'm not completely anti-gym.  I think they're great.  For some people.  I've just found that I'm not one of those people.  I have to drag myself there kicking and screaming.  One hour inside those confining and odor-filled walls feels like an eternity.  Alternatively, grabbing a friend to go play outside (even, or especially, when "play" means a couple thousand feet of uphill hiking in adverse conditions) can make the hours just fly by.

The saving grace of my new indoor playground is yoga.  Out of all the options available, joining this gym was the most economical way to have access to fitness options AND yoga.  In the last year I have really started to embrace yoga, and without the topographically challenging landscape that was once just out my front door, yoga seems to be the best way to maintain the balance and core strength that walking on uneven terrain used to provide.

As is evidenced by the unique soreness I'm feeling this morning after last night's class.

Oh yoga, I always underestimate you.  I mentally prepare for a relaxing hour of stretching and meditation and then am brutally (yet blissfully) reminded of the unique way you challenge me when halfway through class I am being asked to hold body parts in ways that are unexplainably impossible.  I mean, its my own leg?  Why is it so hard to hold it in the air like that?  Its not a two-hundred pound block of cement?  Its my leg.  I move it every day to get from place to place.

And so a new year begins, with a search for new paths to balance, strength, and growth.  And renewed hope for a beautiful journey filled with new adventures.  

Here's a secret...

(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.

Yup, that's all I've got today

Perpetual Transition

Help!  I'm stuck in transition and I can't find my bike!  Or at least that's what it feels like in my life these days.  Like I'm running the isles of the transition area, scanning rows and rows of bikes, looking for the one that is mine.

Except I'm in a car.  Driving.  Searching for what the next piece of my life is going to look like. Its equally as frustrating, but the scenery is a little better.

About that driving thing.  Apparently there is a lot of it on these crazy road trips.  I always forget that.  I've driven over 3000 miles in two weeks.  From the sweet majestic peaks I called home, through the expanse of the desert, to coastlines and rainforest and everything in between.  Teeny, tiny nowhere towns and major metropolitan areas. No real plan, and only a general direction that could be changed at a moments notice.  Sometimes solo, sometimes with friends old and new.  Its been quite an experience so far.  A crazy, fluid, random experience.  A lesson in patience, perseverance, and living truly in the moment -- which is SO MUCH HARDER than you think.

We talk so much about living life to the fullest, but are we really doing that?  Are we really putting our heart into everything that we do when we're doing it?  Are we being true to ourselves, always?  Are we being ourselves?  Or are we creating a false reality, stifling our passions and personality?

Are we living and loving out loud?

Did I mention there's as much thinking time as driving time on this crazy adventure?  That's a lot of thinking.  And most of it has been without the welcome distraction of cell service.

That is A LOT OF THINKING people.  My brain hurts.  My knees hurt.  My back aches.  I'm more of a mess from sitting in a car than I was from my crazy "three 14ers in two days" excursion.  And yet I really, really needed this.

Transition is good.  Healthy.  Something we don't give enough attention to.  And it is never ending.  We are always transitioning.  Whether we are in control of it or outside influences are forcing it on us, we are constantly in flux.  So I guess its time to learn how to do this.  Practice.  Acknowledge.  Learn.  Grow.  Get comfortable with being uncomfortable.  Appreciate it for what it is.  Get stronger from the inside, radiate beauty outward.  Keep moving forward.

You can't screw it up

I am a big mess of emotion these days.  Big. Mess.

I procrastinated packing until the last possible minute because I am in complete denial about what is happening.  Thankfully, I am lucky enough to have friends who don't half-heartedly ask if they can help -- they just show up and say "here's what we're going to do."  Because they know my brain is already at maximum capacity with the holyhellwhatamidoingwithmylife dilemma.  And they bring wine.  Seriously.  How. Unbelievably. Awesome.  I only hope that I can repay the monumental favor someday.

So I'm packed.  Half of the half of my life that was with me in the mountains is now tucked away in multiple storage spaces around my (ya, that's right I said MY) mountain town.  The other half is half with me and half in the mail to someplace I will call home soon.  Again.  I guess.  For a while anyway.

That's a lot of halves to keep track of.  Which is why half my brain has just blown a circuit and shut-down completely.  Which is maybe for the best.  Because transition is hard.  It seems to be an excuse for my brain to question every decision I've made to that point....why are you doing this?  Why didn't you do that?  Why did you spend one of your last afternoons in town drinking at the local watering hole when you should have been organizing and packing and, I mean really, what was that all about?

You can see where that thought process goes.  Nowhere good, usually.  As I was dumping a good portion of this brain-waste on one of my friends she said "you can't screw it up."  Or something along the lines of "you're doing just what you're supposed to do, and you'll end up where you're supposed to be."  And I'm not sure if she was just grasping for something (anything!) in the moment to get me to shut up already....but I hope that there's some truth to what she said.  That maybe the road that you take to get there won't be exactly the one you thought you'd be on, but that doesn't mean the destination can't be the same.  You can still end up where you want to be.

And so, until then I'm trying to enjoy the journey.  Starting with the step in front of me.  And going from there.  Hopefully, with enough steps, it'll all come back around....it'll all make sense....and it will have a beautiful view of the mountains.

Cold Weather. Hot Frogs.

Dude.  Who turned on winter around here?  Because it is cold.  Like go find your cute winter beanie and wear it around your house all day, cold.  But then, I kinda like wearing my cute little winter hats so maybe I'm just quick to rush to that.

Maybe I'm quick to rush to a lot of things lately.  Like this crazy dream.  Maybe now is not the time.  Maybe this was a teaser.  A little taste to tempt me.  To make me see how much I want it.  How much I desperately, desperately want it.  Just not enough to take big, big risks.  Or maybe....?

Someone once told me a little story that went something like this -- "if you put a frog in a pot of water and gradually turn up the heat, the frog will cook itself to death before jumping to safety.  Whereas, if you put a frog straight into a pot of boiling water it will jump out and save itself."

I think I'm about to be the frog.  The question is, will the water be boiling enough for me to jump out fast and save myself?  Or will I slide into the hot tub and wonder why it keeps getting hotter and more uncomfortable?

Only time will tell.

I want to be excited about the cold.  I'm usually excited about the cold.  I want to be excited about the new season ahead.  About another amazing winter in the mountains.  Instead all I can say is "damn, its cold."

"Do Something Worth Remembering"

What a precious gift to wake up everyday with wonder at the amazing, wild world just outside your doorstep. To take that wonder and live it every day. To share it in a way that inspires creativity in others and continues to drive you to see things differently. We should all be so lucky to truly live our passion everyday, even if it barely pays the rent, right?

"...if I only scrape a living, at least its a living worth scraping....if there's no future in it, at least its a present worth remembering...."

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