Goal-Doubts=Reality

My legs hurt. In my never ending attempt to lose weight and become more fit, I have started to run 4 miles a couple of times per week. This is in addition to going to the gym every day. Yes, I might be slightly nuts, but the gym has become a habit and something the bf and I do together. I just feel "off" all day if I don't go in the morning. The running is just something to increase my cardio and possibly cause me to lose all sanity. Yesterday, I ran at 4am. I couldn't sleep, so I got up and went for a run. I saw deer...multiple deer on the path that I run on each morning. There is something seriously wrong with seeing nocturnal animals while you are out for your morning jog. As I was entering mile 3, I started to reflect on WHY I was doing this...my knees hurt, my thighs hurt, and my lungs felt like they were on fire. I must have some sort of sadistic part of my personality to hate running so much but still do it every other day. That being said, it is all in an attempt to reach a goal. I decided last Christmas that I wasn't getting any younger and I have no excuse for not being in the shape of my life. So, hence the gym, the running, and the pain. In the past 10 months, I have not reached my goal, but I have come closer to the goal. I read a quote that helps me when I have a rough fitness day. "Your goals, minus your doubts, equal your reality."~Ralph Marston. I liked it because as a thirtysomething, I really think that to have the mental stamina to reach a fitness goal, you must realize that reality is a reflection of both the positive and negative thoughts floating around in your head. For me that means that when I am so hard on myself for not pushing myself through a workout, I have to remember that it is the doubts that are getting in the way. So, I will go and ice my tired legs and look at the picture on the refrigerator of my dream body and remind myself that it is a marathon and not a sprint with the goal of better fitness and the reality of pushing myself each and every day.

Should've been there

As I prepare for my Dad to visit me, I reflect back upon how much life has changed over the past 2 years. Two years ago, I would not have made sure every inch of the house was clean to prevent him from being exposed to germs. Two years ago, I would not have scrambled to make sure I have every kind of food he could possibly need/want because I would have made the assumption we could always go out to eat or he could just eat what we planned to eat for dinner. Two years ago, I would not have worried that the bed is soft enough or that it will be quiet enough for him to sleep. Two years ago, I would not have worried about him driving and being dizzy. Two years ago, I would not have thought about all of the potential germs he is exposed to on an airplane. Two years ago, I would not have valued the upcoming time with him like I do now. Mostly though, I think about what I would have done differently two years ago. You see, two years ago, my dad was diagnosed with Stage Four Kidney Cancer. I should have been there.
Two years ago, I was living across the country, where I still live today. I remember talking to him on the phone and hearing him cough. He had been coughing for a while. I told him he should see a doctor since it sounded like he had bronchitis. He said he would and I figured that would be the end of it. It wasn't. You see, that is the thing about cancer...it is never really done. This type of disease gives you plenty of time to regret most everything you have done, currently do, and will do with your loved one. It also gives you the opportunity to say goodbye over and over again. The thing I think about the most now is that two week period of time when the doctors were not exactly sure what it was or how bad it was for my dad. I thought about coming home. I asked about coming home. I had so many thoughts spinning in my head. I guess a very real part of me figured that if I didn't come home to hear it from the doctors, it wasn't real. I couldn't bare the thought of what the diagnosis meant for the one person that had been there for me every single day of my thirtysomething life. I didn't go home and I should have. It isn't so much that it would have changed anything our family has experienced since that time, but it would have been a simple way to show my Dad the support he has always shown me. I will never forget one time in particular that Dad was there for me....

I was a very scared, twentysomething single mom. I don't remember exactly what set me off on this particular day, but I had a full out meltdown. I was living at home and I remember sitting on the floor crying hysterically. I was crying so hard, I couldn't even pick up my child. I just couldn't face the challenges I perceived to be ahead of me and the choices I had made to date in my life. I managed to pick up the phone and call my Dad. He was in the middle of harvest and as a farmer, this was a critical time for him. He was pulling 16 hour days trying to get the crop in with all of my brother's help and the hired men. I called and could barely speak. All he said was "I will be there as soon as I can." He was there in 20 min...it is a 30 min drive to the farm from our house. When he got home, we just sat together on the step. We didn't talk...we just sat. I just needed him to sit with me and know that I wasn't alone. After a while (and after I could stop sobbing), we went to go and get ice cream at our favorite family place. While we licked our cones, we talked about life, big and small stuff, and mostly just enjoyed the treat. I will never forget what he told me that day. He said that no matter what, no matter how badly I perceived my situation, he would be there for me and that he knew I could do it. Since that day, every time I feel like giving up or like I just can't do it, I think of that conversation. He will probably never realize (even though I have told him) how much that day meant to me.

So now, some 12 years later, I feel like a complete failure as a daughter because I was not there for him. I know he was surrounded by the rest of my family and yes, I was busy at work, but that doesn't change the fact that I had an obligation to be there for him like he was for me. Some things in life you can never go back, never erase, never get the chance to redo....this was one of them. The best I can hope for is that he has forgiven me and that on this trip, I will get the chance to show him how much he means to me. Mostly, I look forward to the little conversations about nothing much at all that let us just sit together. Thankfully, I still have my Dad with me to create more memories and to hopefully show him what a great job he did as a parent with me. I also hope that I have learned the lesson and that I don't have any more "should've been there" moments.

Perfect in Another Life

Every morning I'm struggling
Trying to figure out where I fit in
It doesn't make much sense but I have to roll with it
Look in the mirror and see my face
but something always seems out of place
has my reflection just runs away from me
If only I could dig deep inside
If only I could I could fly twice as high
If only I could be free
If only I could just give it time
If only I could learn from my life
I would see I'm happy with me
And I'll be perfect, perfect

I'm gonna get it right
I'll be perfect…perfect in the next life

I know you might criticize

And maybe even fantasize

About what I’d be like if I were different

I don’t really think that it’s fair, but most people out there don’t care

I gotta make it up as I go along

By Reddi

Every once in a while you find a song that you play over and over again because there is just something about it. The lyrics, the beat, or perhaps it is the memories it triggers. “Perfect” is one of those songs for me. I cannot stop listening to it.

Unemployment has a way of making you feel rather imperfect. Being a mom has a way of making you feel rather imperfect. I think it is the little things each day that can make one feel imperfect…the way a cup drops to the floor and shatters, the slamming of a door after a fight, an unexpected diagnosis, a sick child, burning dinner, or a new wrinkle in the mirror. While none of these things individually cause us to contemplate how seriously imperfect our lives are, a couple of them occurring in one day can trigger some serious self examination over a glass of wine. I think most people have days, perhaps even years, they wish they could redo to make them a little more perfect. What does it all mean? Why do we wish we were perfect? Why do we always create more goals for ourselves, even after attaining something pretty fabulous? If we finally did attain everything we set out to do and could truly be “perfect” tomorrow, would we be happy?

Happiness. I recently read that over the past 40 years more than 1.3 million people have been surveyed (U.S. and abroad) on happiness (Results reported by Marcus Buckingham). The results are astounding: greater educational, political, and employment opportunities have corresponded to decreases in life happiness for women, as compared to men. Buckingham goes on to state that one of the reasons this trend is occurring is the additional responsibilities women place on themselves…or in other words, their need to be perfect to everyone all the time. Women are treated more equally in the workplace than years ago, we pursue greater educational attainment, and balance crazy levels of responsibility; we seem to be stunted on our pursuit of happiness or a happy life. It seems that we have somehow forgotten that for something to be “perfect”….it has to include some level of happiness as well.

I have struggled so hard to come this far in life, yet perfection eludes me. As this thirtysomething makes it through this life, certain truths still help me face my reflection in the mirror each day. Truth #1: Tomorrow is a new day and a new chance at….everything. Truth #2: Asking for help does not equal defeat. Truth #3: My friends and family love me for who I am…flaws and all. Truth #4: I am harder on myself than anyone else can ever be and sometimes I just need to find the good in me. Truth #5: I am not perfect. Truth #6: I will never be perfect. Truth #6: To get it right, I just need to be me. The real beauty in all of my imperfection is that it has made me who I am. Yes, the klutz that walks into most stationary objects, the mom that sometimes forgets to tell her daughter to bring an umbrella, the person that got laid off, the daughter that should call her parents more often, the sister that doesn’t tell her brothers how much she loves them and misses them, the girlfriend that is always asking a million questions….all of that imperfection and more. What I realized while contemplating this subject is that the only person that actually expects me to be perfect is me. While I strive to be a better person every day, it is the struggle that makes me better. While these truths may be pretty basic, I wish I could remember these simple truths every day. I think it would be wonderful for just one day, even one moment, to embrace imperfection and just be happy with me.

“Perfection I may not be, but I will always, always be me.”

Trapped on the Trolley

As I was researching trolley rides for an upcoming trip to San Francisco, I came upon a website for San Francisco Cable Cars. On the home page, a picture of a red cable car with little destination placards next to it appeared. I immediately burst into laughter (more on this later). The intent is for the reader to select their placard of choice and learn more about that specific item (such as routes and maps). Indeed, the site even had a little note "Learn more about San Francisco's cable cars before you ride." To this, I almost fell off of my chair I was laughing so hard. I noticed one placard in particular...it was for the Rider's guide & etiquette booklet. Now, to any average person this would seem like a reasonable and probably very helpful placard. For me, it represented my last utter failure in an attempt to ride a cable car. Let me rewind.......

While in graduate school, I met one of my friends named Carol. For some reason, we seem to get into the most trouble together. In fact, she calls me "Lucy" and I call her "Ethel" because we have had so many “Lucy and Ethel" type of moments. The cable car story is just one of many! However, I digress. This particular story took place in Orlando Fl at an international conference we were attending for our graduate work. One of the first nights we were there, we decided to go out and do some exploring (i.e...shopping). Outside of our hotel, a cable car service specializing in "complementary scheduled transportation" was like a dream come true. We could literally hop on and off at our destination of choice. Right. Well, all was progressing nicely in the "exploring" venue (I found the cutest shoes!). After several hours of "exploring" we decided we couldn't carry anymore bags and we should head back to the hotel for some R&R. We boarded the cable car and began the ride back. We were four or five stops into the ride when it started to get rather crowded in the cable car. Carol and I stood up to let some of the older folks sit and rest. Now, one might assume that cable cars are rather fluid and a nice smooth ride....hardly. This particular one felt like we were creating a new dance move called the jerk. As we both tried to grab onto something to prevent falling into one of our cable car neighbors, I grabbed a cord that looked like it was attached to the ceiling. Perfect. The cable car came to a screeching halt and sat there as the driver announced “E5 stop.” We assumed it was a random stop as we hadn't done any research on stops or other rider's etiquette. After a few moments (no one got on or off), we were back on the course to the hotel. I felt so lucky to have such a good hold on the cord, it definitely helped to stabilize me when we hit a bump. Carol and I noticed that the cable car seemed to be making several with the same “E5 Stop” notification, and I mean several stops. Finally, she realized what I was holding on to and she started to laugh hysterically. "Lucy, let go of the alert cord." It appeared that in my haste to grab something to hold on to, I had grabbed the cord that alerts the driver that a passenger wants to get off of the car. Apparently all of those stops were for me. How embarrassing. I wish the funny story ended there, but it doesn't. Now, as we progressed along the route, I couldn't remember the name of the stop for our hotel. Carol couldn't either, which I think it completely understandable after our marathon shopping experience. However, we were completely guessing at which stop to exit the cable car. She finally said, "I think this is it, we should try this one." I told her that I thought it was one more yet. We decided to wait until the next stop, figuring we could just walk back if we went past the hotel. As the cable car flew past our hotel, we looked like kids at Christmas...our noses pushed up against the glass with looks of longing on our faces. As the cable car kept going and going and going, we realized with a sick feeling that our hotel was the last stop before the cable car went to all of the Disney World attractions. Fabulous. What to do? We decided that we would just have to ride it out. We would ride the cable car to the end of the line and then just circle back around to the hotel eventually. Great plan. Around 2+ hours later, we finally arrived at the last stop. I almost cried. My arms were killing me, my feet were killing me, I was hungry, and I felt like I was on Survivor: Disney World. I HATE survivor. The only good thing I could think of in that moment was that I would finally have a seat again. We sat down gratefully. We sat there for a moment or two, until we notice the driver glaring menacingly at us. He said, "You have to get off now. This is the last stop." Carol tried to explain that we had missed our stop and we would just like to sit here and ride the cable car back to our hotel. Thank you very much. Apparently the cable car driver hadn't had his happy pill for the day (you can't really blame him...screaming kids, crabby parents, and Disney music all day every day). He said again, "You have to get off now." Well! I wasn't about to get off now. I said, "Sir, we are going to stay on until the (insert name of hotel here)." He said in an increasingly higher pitched voice, "You have to get off now. I like to take my breaks alone." With that, we realized that the cable cars do not just circle endlessly. This would be a great time to point out the usefulness of reading the Rider's guide & etiquette booklet. Needless to say, we had to exit the cable car; heads hung low, and wait for the next returning cable car. I think we finally made it back to the hotel by midnight. After a day or two of recovery, we finally were able to stop laughing. I have to admit, even writing this, I laughed out loud thinking about the panicked look on Carol's face when realized we were "trapped on the trolley." Now, most people might assume that I would read the Rider's guide & etiquette booklet for my upcoming trip to San Francisco after that experience. However, I would not trade that experience for the world. I have a memory that will be with me forever, a friendship that deepened due to experiencing a traumatic event together, and a funny story to share with all of you. Mostly, I am so grateful for a friend that can laugh it up with me after an experience like that one. I think a quote from Lucy and Ethel capture the essence of that trip and many more memories like that one:
Lucy: "I have a plan."
Ethel: "I'm still recuperating from your last plan."

To Ethel: thank you for sticking with me in the good times and the bad and for helping me do the “splainin” when needed.

The Lake

I have a postcard in my cube of a lake at sunset in MN that I purchased on one of my trips home. The colors are brilliant purples, pinks, grays, blues, and deep oranges with dark shadows that hint of trees silently welcoming the night. I put it up in my cube to remind me of home and the one place I have always felt at peace. This photo was taken by one of my cousins at our family lake home in MN. She did a wonderful job of capturing an awe-inspiring sunset. I have so many great memories from the lake that it has become an intrigal part of who I am as a person and how I define relaxation. In all of my travels, I have not found a more beautiful and peaceful place. Each sunset is unique, each sunrise is different, and each view of the lake is different depending on your angle. I know that the lake in and of itself is not what makes it so beautiful for me...it is the memories I have attached to the lake. Growing up, summers were spent lazing around on the dock, falling asleep in the sun, skiing, playing volleyball, and mostly just spending time with family. I didn't realize how important the lake was to me and how I define summer, family, and relaxation until I moved away and couldn't experience it every weekend. I took for granted that being at the lake allowed me to just absorb the moment and enjoy the day for what it was....beautiful, peaceful, and relaxing. Fortunately, I have the memories and I call upon them frequently to find a deep peace and sense of self. No matter what life throws at me, no matter how busy I get, and no matter how stressed out I am, visions of the lake always seem to center me. When I am trying to solve any great crisis in my life, I envision laying on the dock with my eyes closed; the sun warming my entire body while I listen to the sounds of nature and my family around me. When I do this, my logical mind seems to let my intuition take over and produce the most clarifying insights and resolutions to the current crisis. I think at thirtysomething, we tend to forget to do this type of relaxation. We get so caught up in the daily responsibilities, obligations, and just trying to plan our next step that we forget that we can only find peace and relaxation from within....and that we have to relax. My Type-A personality does not account for relaxation in the daily to-do list. Usually, it takes some sort of cataclysmic event to remind me that we owe it to ourselves to relax. I am unable to hear that inner voice guiding me to my next decision unless I take the time to relax. I think relaxation is a lost art in our society today. I think that is probably also why the lake is so effective of relaxing me...it takes me back to a time when life was about laying in an air mattress instead of deciding the next phase of my career. There is something to be said for the beauty in nature and the effect it has on allowing your innermost voice to be heard. So, while this thirtysomething makes a to-do list for the day, I will keep this quote in mind from A.A. Milne (Pooh's Little Instruction Book): "Don't underestimate the value of Doing Nothing, of just going along, listening to all the things you can't hear, and not bothering." My wish for all of you today is that you will find your “lake” and experience a moment of pure relaxation today.

My Bella

The name Bella means "beautiful" in Italian or "God's promise" in Hebrew. My Bella means both to me. She is the essence of my being. Her given name is not really Bella, but that is what she calls herself these days. Now, we don't call her that, but her friends have taken to role playing from the movie Twilight and they all call each other the movie names. She is Bella. I have to admit, given the meaning of the name, it does fit her. Being a parent to Bella is probably one of the most rewarding as well as gut-wrenching experiences I have ever had the opportunity to experience. I think Elizabeth Stone captured it best when she said, "Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body." It is true, when she experiences something good, my heart is so happy, the birds chirp more loudly, the grass is greener...etc. When she experiences something difficult, my stomach drops and I immediately feel nauseous. I seem to experience childhood all over again through her eyes. The thing I wasn't prepared for in the past couple of years is the knowledge and awe of experiencing Bella's beautiful heart and wanting to be more like her in life. I always assumed that it was the parent that taught the child. Bella is the type of child that is kind to everyone, she just accepts life and circumstances as they are and makes the best of it. She is nice to all living things (even reptiles, which I abhor). She has taught me that no matter what, tomorrow is another day. So, this thirtysomething is so grateful to have Bella and to be able to experience another view of childhood through her eyes. My Bella, my sunshine, I love you =)