2024 is around the corner. I’ve been thinking. I’ve been looking for the right target. I’ve been thinking about how to hit the target. I put the pen to paper. The idea was hatched.
The hamster wheel. My idiotic quest. My target. My stretch goal. My to do list item on repeat. The few I’ve shared this goal with asked why? Well, I was motivated by a friend who chose run every day in 2023. She has just 40 days left. She ran with stitches in her foot. She ran on cold days. She ran when she didn’t want to. She ran on the treadmill. She ran races. She ran alone. She ran with friends. She overcame so much adversity.
I looked at that success in awe. I also knew I was not as dedicated to running daily. Thus I had to find a broader way to hit a similar milestone. 1 mile a day may last me a week. I can’t do the same thing so many times. I’m just not wired that way.
I will have to manage my miles my way. Adding a mile here and there at lunch. Running a 5k here and there to build the mileage. I’m looking for variety. Maybe a 10k, 15k or half marathon. Maybe some new destinations to entice me. Maybe become friends with the air runner at my gym. Who knows.
All I know is I have a goal. I bought a journal to track my progress. I wrote this blog to have a placeholder in time. Now it’s up to me to mentally prepare for January 1, 2024. For that is when I begin my hamster wheel activities. Round and round I will go.
How many pairs of shoes will I use?
How many states will I run in?
Will I run in another country?
Will I do my mileage alone or with friends?
How many races will I register for?
Will my time improve with consistency?
Will my body change any?
Will I motivate anyone to run/jog/walk?
Is it possible for me to end up liking running?
We shall see. Look for updates in 2024 or maybe it will be a memo of defeat? Anyone want to make a wager?
I am a creature of habit. As an elementary school teacher, my schedule is pretty rigid. My official work day is Monday – Friday, 8 am to 4 pm. Unofficially, I go in early for meetings 3 days a week. These schedules dictate my workout routines. Gym on Monday and Wednesday, which usually means a WOD and a bonus endurance block. Tuesday, Thursday, and Friday, I workout at home using Street Parking as my guidebook.
I listen to Spotify for hours each day. Music during all my own workouts. Podcasts on my drive. Music at work. Podcasts and music on the weekends. Lots of different flavors and blends, depending on my activity and mood.
I was intrigued when I saw “Daylist” in my Spotify favorites. I clicked the link and to my surprise, it’s a customizable playlist based on my habits and the time of day. The list refreshes every few hours. So I get instrumental jazz during work hours. Low key yacht rock in my early morning workouts on my home days. Upbeat 80s and 90s when I do my long cardio rides on the bike at the gym. It’s kind of uncanny how well it predicted what I would want to hear. I grabbed a few songs I had forgotten about and put them on my official playlists. It made me reflect on my patterns and habits.
And it made me a giggle a few times. When it classified some of my favorite songs as being from the 1900s (?!?!?) I laughed. When it gave me a melancholic playlist for Sunday afternoon, I knew too well that the “Sunday Scaries” has a soundtrack. A couple of times I’ve been surprised by what Spotify served up. Country on Monday afternoon? Why? Still trying to figure that one out. But it’s fun to wonder about.
Does all this make me predictable? Maybe. It’s one less button for me to push or thing to look up when I need to get out the door in the wee hours. Just a little technology that makes me smile and adds a little amusement to my life.
Thanksgiving is a time to be thankful. I am so thankful for my life. The shortcomings. The high points. The people. My friends. My family. My pets. My coworkers. All of it.
I may reflect on my thankfulness differently than others. I don’t need to share my feelings through food nor see somebody in person to let them know they are valued. This year I reflected from a remote location. I was up early before the sunrise. Not to cook but to reflect. It was important to me. I opted for video or text messages to send reminders of value others play in my life. Non traditional, yes. Heartfelt, yes. Memorable, I think so.
My way of celebrating is my way. Family gatherings often end with stressful bickering or binge eating and food comas. No thanks. I’m carving out time for a hike this year. Some peaceful time in nature. Breathing fresh air. Listening to birds chirp. Avoiding chaos. I’m eating simple turkey breast and sides. Easy peasy. No rush. No fluff. No stress. Easy cleanup. I’m letting my adult kids choose how they celebrate. They appreciate this. They don’t want to be forced to attend a required gathering. Just keeping in simple.
When I look back over the past five Thanksgivings, I have traveled out of state for four out of five. There is a pattern. Avoid the conflict, chaos and disappointment. The latter being the worst. Not being able to go everywhere you are invited. Letting somebody down. It’s a tough cross to bear, but an invitation is just that. An invitation to join xyz. It’s not a requirement. If a host doesn’t feel comfortable in their own house, that’s added stress to host. That’s so puzzling to me. I just wouldn’t do it. Not worth it to me.
I’ve read many articles online this year about Dear Abby, my son-in-law is a pig. Nobody wants him at the family functions. Dear Abby, my daughter-in-law has no manners. Her etiquette is not becoming of her. Dear Abby, my mother is not nice to my husband and it makes the meal table very stressful. So many variations of people being unhappy and losing sight of thankfulness.
I choose non-traditional. I don’t like to confirm to norms. I like to set new traditions and reinvent those experiences with a little flair thereafter. Is that wrong? Am I harming anyone? Am I choosing happy my way? How fun is it to go to a new destination and see how others celebrate? How about volunteering for the homeless and making their day? So many options.
I prefer paper plates and easy cleanup. No fine china at my turkey day table or other major holiday. I prefer Friendsgiving or gatherings of such. The ones where everyone brings their favorite dish to share. The ones where people focus on what they liked about their standard traditions vs. all the must dos.
I’m in shorts and slippers today. Nothing fancy. Just me. Comfortably dressed as I gorge myself. No uncomfortable dress up to be presentable to others. My holidays are full of options. The destination may differ. The food may be shaken up. The company may vary as well. That’s part of the fun.
However you celebrate Thanksgiving and other holidays, be thankful. Be thankful for your life, your health and your ability to be present. The latter being most important. Your presence can be virtually in some instances because you are a present to those receiving the message no matter how it’s delivered and really you can’t be everywhere at the same time. You have to improvise.
I’m also okay with knowing that as I age I may chose solitude. I may choose to reflect alone. That’s my choice. I hope when and if that day comes, my kids understand. If I’m not able to travel or run a race on turkey day I may need to find my peace in my own way. Time will tell. Of course, I’ll probably write about it, too.
To all those who frown on this post, more power to you. I won’t hold it against you, rather it will be motivating for me. I will choose to enjoy my peace more to bank some peacefulness for you.
Happy turkey day and smolidays to come from this finicky old gal with an independent mindset just tossing this rant out to the world. This post is also coming out after Thanksgiving as it may hit a little different after you had your actual Thanksgiving celebration or shit show.
You are merely experiencing a bump in the road of life. It’s not the end of the road today. It’s just a bump in the road. A discomfort of sorts. Your mind may want you to feel the end is near but you control those thoughts.
1 hour.
1 day.
1 week.
1 month.
Live each ounce of the day to the fullest. Tomorrow is never guaranteed but if you live in the moments of today you won’t regret what could have been.
Today I am sitting in the sun. It’s a fall day which could be cold but it’s not. I’m making the most of the extra sunshine in my day. I could do other things but in the moment the warmth of the sun feels calming. The warmth seems ready to be soaked up. Why shouldn’t it be me who enjoys it?
Often we see life through a doom and gloom lens. However we all have the opportunity to look at life in a more positive manner. My life is like a ray of sunshine. Not every day in every moment but enough moments in a day to make my day a good one.
I hope you can surround yourself with people who help you see the sunshine in the forecast Abigail. You deserve to focus on the wide open road ahead instead of the bumps in your immediate path.
Keep shining.
Keep smiling.
Keep your faith.
Good things are on the horizon.
You just have to look far enough into the distance to see them.
Maybe you know an Abigail. Struggling with life’s low points. Be a that positive Polly and make a difference. Send a card. Drop a quick text. Have coffee and conversations. Share a smile. Whatever it takes to make that one day better.
That’s what I’m doing for Abigail today. I’m making a difference the best way I know how.
A recent friend adventure was my 50th birthday trip to the Florida Keys. It was a grand time with some amazing gal pals. We did so much, it’s hard to know how to slice and dice and share it all. With that in mind, here’s the first of what’s likely to be several posts about our extravaganza.
When you think of the Florida Keys, what is the first thing that comes to mind? Jimmy Buffett? Kokomo? Well for some of us in our little group, our eyes lit up at the prospect of all the key lime pies we could try.
As I got further and further into my research, I learned that pie is only the start of the key lime culinary culture of the Florida Keys. Key lime cocktails, taffy, ice cream, soap, lotion, and more could be a part of our key lime caper.
We knew it would be a trip with indulgences. But I didn’t want to go overboard. So, before we boarded the plane, I asked my fellow key lime lovers if we could share the first slice of any pie we tried. If one of us found one we truly loved, we could go back and have a second slice. It was a deal.
Even though I had done my research in advance, I was surprised at how varied the different pies could be. The first one we tried, at the Blonde Giraffe, was extremely tart. This version had a few fat squiggles of whipped cream on top. Not much of a crust. You could also try their dark chocolate drizzled version. Gotta say I felt like an amateur when the extreme tart made me wince. We got two slices and neither were finished between three of us sampling.
Thankfully, things improved from there. Each slice was different. We worked to become key lime connoisseurs. How tart? How sweet? What about the crust? Whipped cream or meringue on top? A couple of slices almost had the consistency of ice cream.
Which brings to mind the many other key lime items we tried. Key lime ice cream. Key lime taffy. Key lime cocktails for the drinkers, complete with a graham cracker crust rim. I read about key lime french toast but we didn’t make it to that place. Key lime pastries. Each unique.
We didn’t settle on a clear winner. But we all had fun sampling along the way and weighing out our choices. As for me, I favor somewhat tart custard (and don’t mind if it’s almost like a frozen pie.) I am a sucker for a thick graham cracker crust. And whipped cream beats meringue, but not by much.
Funny side note…when we first made the plan to go to the keys, my key lime-loving friends and I looked for a key lime crawl. Even with all the bar tours and tiki boats, we couldn’t find one. So, of course, we made our own unofficial one. Next time you’re traveling, make your own unofficial tour of a local food, drink, or whatever you all enjoy! New Orleans? Gumbo (or Po’ Boy, or beignet, or hurricane, or so many other things) crawl. Philadelphia? Cheesesteak crawl. The only limit is your imagination. Share ’em, score ’em, debate the merits and pick your faves. A great way to dive in to local culture, cuisine, and add a bit of fun to your next adventure.
2 Chicks and a blog 