Tag: observations

challenges

Turning 50

2chicksandapen

A group of my fitness friends and I are building our engines. In addition to CrossFit and extra cardio, this crazy group of ladies throws in challenges here and there just to keep it fun and interesting.

Chick 1 got the honor of throwing October’s challenge at us. And it was a doozy.

“Pick a day. Any day. Hop on the bike erg and ride for as long as you can without breaking. Also for socktober you need to wear crazy socks while doing it and document your duration here with video or photo proof. Ready set go!”

Of course being my PhD self I had to ask questions. Is this for time or distance or both? (Honestly, did it really matter?)

I wanted a marathon distance at least. Had to find a day when I could get to the bike erg at the gym for at least two hours, just to be safe. Finally, a night when I had a 7:00 pm meeting not too far from the gym. I get out of work around 4, so that should be just enough.

Preparation: Pack my bike shorts for extra padding. This would be an endurance challenge for my mind, my legs, and for other body parts, too! (If you’ve spent much time on a bike, you know what I mean.) Take Tylenol a couple of hours before. And stop drinking water at noon or so, to be sure my bladder doesn’t shorten my ride! Checked the gym schedule to be sure the bike wasn’t in the workout – whew!

I raced to the gym on the appointed day. I packed things to read, things to do, my AirPods, and so on. Walked in and thankfully the bikes were empty. I was there before any afternoon classes so I got setup, got my tunes going, went to the bathroom one last time, and off I went.

I just went steady most of the first hour. Saw the 4:30 class come and go. I did some video editing one-handed for my daughter’s college recruiting. Read some old articles on my phone. Just kept pedaling. When the second hour started I couldn’t really focus on anything else anymore. My brain just couldn’t do it. So it became just pedal pedal pedal. 42,195 meters – just gotta keep pedaling!

I did take a photos at milestones, like 20 miles. This was to keep things interesting because honestly, riding on the erg for long periods bores me. I’d rather ride my road bike and go places. I also started to worry that the monitor battery would crap out and I’d be stuck with no proof.

After nearly two hours, I hit the marathon distance. And as I had hoped, I still had a little time and I still had life in my legs. So I did what a crazy person does, I kept going. It’s less than 8,000 meters to 50k. Why not try?

I pushed when there really wasn’t much push in my muscles. I just hunkered down and kept going. Watching the number click, click, click over. Praying the monitor kept working! Watching the minutes tick, tick, tick by. Hoping I’d get done in time!

Finally, I got to the last 500 meters. I was going to do it! Video in hand, I taped the monitor so I could see it click over to 50,000. I was going to take selfies and celebrate next to that big number. 300…200…100…and…ready for my close up…but instead….

Apparently no one is crazy enough to bike 50,000 meters, because after 49,999 the monitor starts back over at 1. 1!

I burst out laughing.

What else can I do but laugh? Sure, I didn’t get my photo opp. That doesn’t change the crazy effort or what I know I completed. Just means it’s time for something new.

Sometimes you work your butt off to get to a goal, then get there only to find out someone moved your cheese. Or that goal wasn’t that big of a deal anyway. Or actually, there’s another goal over the horizon. Victory party sure, but keep it short lived. Start over. Get racing. It’s a never-ending process of challenge and improvement. Maybe this is what turning 50 will be like, too. You get there and look around just to say, what’s next? Every finish line is really a start line.

So I waddled off the erg, packed my things and got to my meeting. Chick 1 gave me groovy Nerds socks as my challenge prize. Bring on November. New goals, new challenges and a great group of friends to conquer them with.

family, Teddie Aspen

Dog Lessons

2chicksandapen

It wasn’t long ago I was digging through boxes leftover from my childhood home. I ran across an American Kennel Club certificate. Maximillian was his name.

I had heard his name many times in my life, often with a sneer from one of my brothers. They loved their dog, and I was the reason we got rid of him. Maximillian, the prized pooch, couldn’t stop knocking me over as a newly walking toddler. So, he had to go.

All this to say, I didn’t grow up with dogs. I had a cat named Snoopy I treasured but was allergic to (a story for another post), but never a dog. I just didn’t get dogs. Never wanted one. And who knows, maybe I was even a little scared of them from all my hard knocks as a babe.

As an adult, when my family wanted to get a dog, I resisted. We even had a dog live with us for a while that didn’t really work out. We ended up taking him to a new home where he could have the room and attention he needed.

Then Penny came along. My sister-in-law became her unexpectedly permanent foster mom. She needed a place to live and a family to love her. Would we be interested? I didn’t really want this at all. We could take her for a 2-week trial to see if we could handle it.

And she never left. We live together but I wouldn’t say she loves me. Still, my heart softened seeing how much everyone else loved her. She changed our family.

And then came the dog that I really did love. Chester. The unlikely, homely, wiry guy from the pound. The underdog. I didn’t even know why we would ever need 2 dogs. I was just getting used to 1! Then Chester who got scared by sudden movements and noises, Chester who always backed out of the room…Chester came along. He was very shy at first but eventually came around and became sweet, playful Chester. He loves to run and bound through the woods, and his sad eyes will pull at your heart strings every time. Chester changed my heart about dogs.

Now there’s the newest member of the clan named Nash, who I’ve taken a liking to. I even embrace my extended family and friend’s dogs. Heck, I even get to walk dogs and dog sit once in a while. Truthfully, I still don’t know how to act around dogs, and they can tell. It doesn’t come naturally for me and maybe never will. Thankfully, I’ve learned that many dogs are pretty forgiving if you at least try. They teach me about protection, loyalty, priorities and unconditional love. They seem to bring out the best in people just by being there and present in the moment. That bowls me over in the best of ways.

perspective

One More Take Away

2chicksandapen
Sad Sally is here with a news flash! I finally got to go to one of my favorite nail salons. One I haven’t been able to go to since the corona shutdown.
 
First rules then limited hours prohibited my patronage. Now they are open and I was able to fit their hours into my schedule….I was excited go In for my regular service.
 
Then I got inside and it wasn’t the same. Only half the staff was there which made me sad as I talked to the owner. She had to make cuts to survive. Then the plexiglass dividers separate the little communication you have due to language barriers with the workers. I used to share smiles and giggles but now that seems weird. The little ways we show appreciation that are non- verbal are again sadly noted as missed opportunities. How can I now bridge the communication gap and connect despite the challenges? Just makes me sad overall and I feel like a sour grape when I should few like a happy camper at nail salon having a sweet treat!
 
As I sit silently drifting off into the space between sleepland and daydreaming, I reminisce and think it was just a few years ago that I started getting getting pedicures. I held out for such a long time. Now I know what a special experience it is and at least for the moment some of the best parts are gone. 
 
Of course I’m happy to help support a small business in the chaotic time but no extra massage today due to the closeness/touch factor between employee and client. Another let down for me. This is just shining example of the change that is upon us. 
 
Costs have increased for this owner although their revenue has dropped drastically. Empty seats. Lights left off. Still have to air condition the place. Pay for music, supplies, insurance, the latest nail shades. Not to mention rent. Fixed costs in a broken system. How much longer until service-oriented business who fight for discretionary spend fail?
 
What about the other half of her employees? Their families? How are they surviving? 
 
Will things ever go back to the way they were? 
 
 
family

Feelings of Worry

2chicksandapen

Do feelings or worry keep you up at night or make sleeping restless? The answer for me is generally no.

However, as a mother I have had many sleepless night thanks to my kiddos. It could be when they were little without words crying. Was I doing the right thing as a mom? I could use the sleep but couldn’t sleep as I was carrying the worry burden in my mind.

Then it was when they had a cold, recovered from an injury, or even had surgery. Those seemed like tough scenarios at the time but nothing prepares you for aging kids. That’s when the grey hair comes.

There is even worry about me time. Am I being selfish making time for me when the kids could use x, y or z? Is there a capable spouse that could fill my void while I take some me time? Is my mental balance important even as a mom? Over the years feelings of worry hit at various times for various reasons resulting in sleepless nights. I think it comes with the mother territory but I don’t recall reading about it in the motherhood books.

Nothing in my mind prepares a mom for aging teens to early adults. When they drive a car will they be safe? When they leave your home to adult will they make good choices? Will they eat right? Will they make good financial decisions? So many scenarios that can be stressful if you allow it to eat away at you in your mind.

Most days I do a good job keeping those feelings at bay. However when it’s time
to lay down the law, apply pressure and push the aging kiddos, I wonder if they are ready. Did they mature? Do they have the mental toughness I had at that age? Am I being too hard?

Today’s world is complex. It doesn’t appear that kids mature at the level I was expected to at the same age. There is more coddling and hand holding. Is this society? Is it my parenting? How can one child fare okay and another struggle?

Thoughts at 4am to ponder. Do your kids even think you worry about them when they are adults? I know my mom worries and she is in her 80s. Did I make it home after a long drive? Am I too busy with work? The list goes on. But today’s kids think it’s more of a chore to check in. Why would anyone worry about me?-type attitude.

At what point does one mature and see the vantage point of others? Some days I think I’m mature. Other days I think I have plenty of growing to do. When I refer to maturity, I don’t mean physical maturity. I mean mature in life. Understanding the connectedness of people, emotions and so on.

Again just a random rant capturing the moments of sleep loss due to worry of a loved one. Another day no emergency phone call. I guess that’s a good sign for now. It’s my thought they think I have no worries but in fact they are my only worry.

Life as a mom is the hardest job in the world yet it’s the most rewarding. The job doesn’t pay money but it pays overtime in memories, experiences and keeps you on your toes.

Enjoy today. Live like there is no tomorrow. Regret nothing. Worry less. That’s my mom motto.

business

A Numbers Game

2chicksandapen

I work in a profession where numbers are king. Pre-post data. Year over year growth. People love numbers. But not me, at least not always.

I have a love-hate relationship with numbers. I like the scale when the numbers go down. I’m not happy when the number goes up. Ever since I started Weight Watchers for the first time at the ripe old age of 12, I’ve watched that number on the scale with trepidation.

In my last round of weight loss, I learned that the scale can sometimes be a damn liar. There are all kinds of reasons for the scale to go up or down, some of which have little to do with what I did or didn’t eat. Maybe it means muscles are growing. Still, sometimes, I forget and get all tied up in what the scale tells me each morning. It becomes more than data and sometimes inches in to my judgment of self-worth.

Perhaps the number I fear the most has a dollar sign in front of it. For a long time, I have held on to a number as a symbol of my security, my prosperity, my future. That number meant a lot to me. So much that I refused to change it except when I was forced to.

It took a push from a dear friend and the universe to finally change that number from something that just appears on a screen to something real. Yup, I doubled down on my dollar sign and transformed that number into grass, soil, and timber. I changed in what I thought was the security of being a passenger and put myself in a driver’s seat.

So, the digits after my dollar sign may be smaller now. It’s what I have always feared. I have to look at it with a deep breath sometimes and remember…instead of disappearing, I am taking that number and transforming it into something new. Betting on my sweat and effort instead of just watching the screen, crossing my fingers and hoping it goes up. I’m taking the reins, moving in new directions, from the ground up.  Using my roots to create something new, beyond numbers.

Watch it grow.