A Good Day To Be (fake) Catholic

Religious affiliations aside, 40 days seems like a very reasonable, yet challenging, period of time for a little challenge of sorts....don't you think?

I do. I'll jump on that Catholic bandwagon for the next few weeks.

Except I can't quite nail down a challenge.  I am considering forcing myself to do a pre-determined amount of weekly morning workouts.  But lemmetellyou, fasting for 40 days in the desert seems like a lot more fun than getting up at 5AM to go for a run.  Which I guess is the point.

So morning workouts it is. Which will be replaced by just regular-old-after-work-workouts if, you know, I still suck at mornings.  Point is, there needs to be workouts.  Because I have this big five mile race to train for.  Did you hear that?  FIVE WHOLE MILES OF RUNNING.  OMG.  Sorry but its laughable that I will consider this five mile race an accomplishment.  But that is where I am.  And it must be dealt with.

Quite frankly, this is what I need to kick start all the other little things that need to change in my life at the moment. Its true. Working out does this. Its like magic fertilizer beans for the saggy, droopy beanstalk that you've been neglecting in the backyard, Jack. (or in this case, "magic easter jelly beans")

So nighty-night kids. This little princess needs her beauty rest lest I be a raging witch in the wee hours of the morning tomorrow. Or...wait....that raging witch part is probably inevitable. But I should get some sleep anyway....so I'm not a TIRED raging witch.

Happy Ash Wednesday. (Is it Easter yet?)

a winding road

One of these days, I might actually write something. There is much to say. But for now, there is this. Amos Lee (swoon) and this beautiful song.

Its a winding road, when you're in the lost and found.....got a gypsy soul and I was born for leaving....

Colder Weather - Artists of the Year - Zac Brown Band - Zac Brown Band Videos

The Dog Days

You should add this to your workout queue. Immediately. That is, if you're working out. In which case, kudos to you. I'm NOT. I just went to Disney World and ate and drank my way around central Florida for a few days. Then I spent the remainder of the week hunkered down inside my full length down jacket (Be jealous. That thing is awesome.) because it was too cold for penguins around here. So needless to say I didn't drag myself to the gym. But I did see my first Cirque du Soleil in Orlando. And nothing will motivate you to attempt athletic endeavors like watching an entire troupe of perfectly toned gymnasts bounce around stage for an hour or so. Wow.

Tomorrow will by my first time out on Nordic skis this year. So that might be kinda like acrobatics.

Words, as gifts

You know that you're a lucky girl when you send a friend a somewhat generic answer to her text message, she reads what wasn't written and sends you this;

I will not die an unlived life. I will not live in fear of falling or catching fire. I choose to inhabit my days, to allow my living to open me, to make me less afraid, more accessible, to loosen my heart until it becomes a wing, a torch, a promise. I choose to risk my significance; to live so that which came to me as seed goes to the next as blossom and that which came to me as blossom, goes on as fruit.

fully alive - dawna markova

Words are such a powerful gift.  And the friends that know how to give them, the right words at the perfect time, those kinds of friends are the best kind.

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