Moving Mountains

I don’t set New Year’s resolutions for the same reason I don’t diet. If I don’t reach my goals, I feel guilty, like I’ve failed. It doesn’t matter if I’ve achieved small victories along the way.

So when I set out to live my life not dictated by excuses, I refused to call it any sort of resolution. It was less about the year 2011 and more about setting forth to achieve one thing at a time. I wanted to feel proud of my achievements – I didn’t want to minimize them because I didn’t accomplish all of them within the year.
And now here we are, with the end of the year approaching. I’ve learned a lot about myself.

I’ve learned, for instance, that risk is necessary for return. Sure, it’s a simple fact. But it’s a simple fact I had to feel to know. Saying goodbye to safety can feel like you’ve been punched in the stomach, the air knocked right out of you. But if you cling to what is safe, you never can experience what is good and new and right.

I’ve learned that some things can be fun even if you’re not good at them. I have never misjudged myself as a coordinated athlete. But knowing I was uncoordinated provided me an excuse to avoid fun activities. Skiing, running, playing basketball and going for bike rides were dismissed as activities that weren’t for me, because I figured I wouldn’t be good at them.

Well, sure, skiing down a mountain holding onto my friend’s ski poles while he held them horizontally and skied backward in front of me wasn’t the most exhilarating experience. In fact, there were moments of fear and moments of butt-bruising involved. But you know what? I had fun. We laughed the whole way down, and we gave everyone we passed a good laugh as well.

I’ve learned that things change, and I change right along with them. And that I need to pay closer attention to the changes, so I can learn to enjoy them or, well, brace for them. Exhibit A: Who woulda thunk someone could become susceptible to sea sickness with age? Rocking boats never used to bother me. But boy, do they now. But then again, I never would’ve guessed I’d enjoy riding my bike as much as I do. Sure, riding on the city streets still scares the bejeezus out of me, but I’m doing it anyway.

Behold, some of my 2011 accomplishments:

Went skiing
Started running
Went sailing
Played basketball with the big boys
Returned to yoga (sort of)
Broke old patterns
Wore shorts, psoriasis or not

So I had a good year. I'm learning to love myself. Really love myself. Without judgment, expectations or success. Just to love and accept myself the way I am.
Because some people are meant to ski down mountains.

And some people are meant to move them.

Run Away With Me

One foot in front of the other. It's how we make it through a day. Every day we somehow find the motivation, strength and drive to pick up one foot, move it through the air, and place it in front of the other foot. Sometimes we take baby steps, and sometimes we run in full strides.

After a particularly rough day earlier this week, I decided I wasn't going to beat myself up for my silly shortcomings. On this day, I decided just to give myself a pat on the back for surviving as an adult. After all, I wake up every morning, climb out of bed (albeit usually late), and I go to work or to my volunteer program. I pay my bills, I take good care of my belongings, even better care of my dog, and I continuously put one foot in front of the other. And just for this, I need to give myself credit.

Because I can't always succeed at everything else, but that doesn't mean I shouldn't try. I can't always succeed at being an amazing friend or sibling or daughter. I can't always be perfect at my job. I can't always be pulled together with a nice outfit and a clean apartment. All I can do is give myself credit for making it through the hard times, the mundane times and enjoying the happy ones.

Lately I feel like I've been running at full speed without ever reaching a destination. I'm busy all day long every day without ever really accomplishing anything.

But I have accomplished one big thing these past few months. I've taken my one-foot-in-front-of-the-other approach to the treadmill. While I feel like I've been running full speed in life, I've been pacing at more of a jog on the treadmill. A jog of 4.3 mph at a 3 percent incline. But to me, this is an achievement.

As dumb as it sounds, running is one of those things I've always told myself I couldn't do. I'd given myself so many excuses that I'd come to believe them.

And over Thanksgiving, when I was away from a gym for a whole week, I got restless. I decided I had to learn to run.

I made the decision for many reasons, but mostly it was that I was tired of telling myself I couldn't do it. So when I got back to my gym, I hopped on the treadmill with the intention to walk for two minutes and then run for two minutes, alternating between the two.

And then I hit minute 11 of running straight, and I realized I really could do this. When I felt like I couldn't go on, I just told myself to focus on putting one foot in front of the other.

I'm running a 5k in February, and then maybe I'll spring for a 10k after that. I'm doing it. I feel good. I feel accomplished. And I feel like so many of the other little failures in life fade away after I've pushed myself through a good run at the end of a shitty day.

Either way, all it takes is putting one foot in front of the other. Sometimes it's baby steps, sometimes it's a full-speed run. All that really matters is that I continue to give myself credit just for sticking with it.

Because really, it's just about not quitting.