Un-Balancing Act

I've already admitted to being inconsistent. I can't stay on a diet, don't keep in touch with people, and live in a generally disorganized world of chaos. I like it that way. It's an emotional roller coaster that I simultaneously question and realize I create for myself. Sorry to all of the licensed psychologists that won't be getting my co-pay because that was just too easy for me to figure out on my own! Dare I put in black and white what I am feeling right now? For fear of dooming my mission and sabotaging my goal I have been careful not to say too much. In exactly one week I will embark on a 13.1 mile journey to a very important personal success. This will commemorate not only the emotional and physical challenges I will have overcome to reach this point but also the milestone (pun intended) of completion. I could be awarded with the title of "mom with most ideas and least follow through" or "writer with most unfinished blogs". This momen...

It's the one thing about me that I would change despite my claims that one should not live with a rear view mirror. Just as with this blog I live my life in a flux between consistency and inconsistency. I am always authentic and sometimes more thoughtful than others, but it varies. A few weeks ago someone very beloved to me nearly died. What a reminder of the importance of stating your feelings and gratitude that was! When you have no rear view mirror you can not look back and say how much more you wished you called a person - or how you wish you hadn't wasted time being angry with them. When that person wakes up from their scare, if they do, they will probably only care that you were by their side at that moment. That's probably all you should care about too. It's a new opportunity to look forward. So many people don't get that chance. Because of my self proclaimed lack of consistency I can use this imaginary world along with my calendar to keep me honest. ...

There's a running joke in my house, one maybe only I find funny despite the truth behind it. I take photos of my dogs and food and treetops and child. I change my Facebook status when something comes to mind. I sometimes tweet and sometimes Instagram... And I write this secret blog. I tell my family that I want to be able to look back someday when I forget everything, and see & read those moments I once found worthy of documenting. It can be as normal as a trip to the farmers market. The point is that I see this in my future, forgetting, and I want to be able to feel the normal perfect silly things that filled my daily life.  I've forgotten things on purpose. I've forgotten things accidentally. I have felt ashamed and spiteful. I don't know how I will feel once I really do begin forgetting. Maybe there is something I can do to prevent it though I see it as inevitable. Until then I will continue to fill my activity log with the passing thoughts and likes and ...

I am celebrating a major accomplishment. All of my life I have struggled with completion. College, marriage, books, blogs.... lots of stuff. I have just reached one of the first completion milestones of my life! There are pros and cons to this statement. The pros are the sense of accomplishment, pride, and satisfaction. The con is the realization that this accomplishment took less than 31 minutes. I like to focus on the positive and see this as me turning over a new leaf in adulthood. Last week I reached a goal associated with my new running habit. After many tries, showing up to races and leaving before the gun, running and walking, stopping and starting... I did it: 5K on Thanksgiving morning. It's not a marathon, it's not a triathlon... why do I do that? Why do I stop patting myself in the back only to give myself a lashing for no good reason. I don't suppose I need a trophy simply because I woke up this morning and wasn't a total lazy ass, but where is the fine li...

A week ago I was wavering. I felt like giving up. The practicing of what I was preaching was getting harder. It's not like me to reach out for support, or to make "cries for help" but that's what it finally took for me to keep going. Four days off from running was translated as a sign that I was just done. Maybe the luster was lost and I did what I came to do - so hang up the special foam sneakers and stop making the athletic section the first stop in the department store. It's over. But somewhere in my guts between my heart and my stomach there was still this little twinkle. It was like a little seed of adrenaline remained trying to keep the greater flame alive. But I needed more. So what does any self respecting person do these days when they need a platform to out themselves of whatever shameful thing they can't bare to speak aloud: post it to facebook! One of the few colleagues I happen to be connected with on Facebook answered my call via an email. I...

There isn't that much to juggle. My career is enjoyable, I work from home. I hardly ever put a suit on let alone makeup. I have only one child - really a young man who is old enough to do most things for himself. My partner helps where he can, and I don't even clean my own house. But I am sitting here like a nuclear reactor about to go into the red zone because I can not motivate my child to focus on his school work. We have been through so much together. My delivery can be harsh and can often lack the tenderness I am sure he requires. I am awaiting an evaluation appointment that I wish we didn't need. Not because I am ashamed or disappointed in any way but because I selfishly wish this could be a simple fix that doesn't require him to expose himself, doubt himself, or finally - for me to doubt myself. I don't want my child to think there is something wrong with him however I found myself asking him on more than one recent occasion, "What is wrong with you??...

I was riding my bike around this little sleepy neighborhood, with more visible construction workers than actual residents, when I smelled it. Out of the side sliding door of a white van I detected the familiar smell mixed with the upholstery, cigarette smoke, and heat in the air - it was most certainly a Vanilaroma tree. We are hundreds of miles and a few decades away from the nostalgia to which this scent transported me. Gas was 99 cents per gallon at Jersey Oil. My friends and I mostly drove hand me down cars from our parents, or a practical, barely functioning version of what we could all afford at the time. It was cool to know how to drive a stick shift. It was ok to scoop ice cream, bus tables, or fold sweaters at the Gap in order to make enough money to buy that gas and some Taco Bell after school. When Spring Fever started creeping in you could smell the story of these teenage owned cars in the fabric of the seats - intermingled with the musky flavor of your tree of choice. Mi...

It means a great deal to me when I hear another mother say how hard things are, how tired she is, or how overextended the family schedule has become. There's a feeling of kinship knowing I am not the only one that doesn't have it all "together". Still, though, it somehow makes me question my own resolve. They have more kids then me - of course they are tired! They commute to work each day, no wonder they struggle to get a great dinner on the table. All those sports they tote the kids around to must be exhausting! What's my excuse? I have one child, work from home, have very few responsibilities that require my time away from my family.... I must be lazy right? Why is it that one moment I can take pride in an accomplishment but in the next split second feel a deep sense of inadequacy? Was I trained this way? Is this something else I should blame on my mother? My commitment to myself this week will be to relish in my accomplishments. Whether it is making a great d...

5 months ago when I set out to accomplish what seemed like a simple fitness task, I blatantly proclaimed that "it's not like I want to run in an organized event or anything." The routine seemed mundane at first, a boring repetition of short jogs on the same route. I tried to fast forward and failed because there's clearly a method behind the plan. There was a time I laid in a hospital bed feeling sorry for myself because the feeling of being paralyzed made me long for the ability to accomplish something I felt would be impossible for my body to tolerate. Shame on me for taking that moment of clarity for granted by forgetting it so quickly once I could use my legs again. So I got my partner involved and we went from "Couch to 5k" in the prescribed 8 weeks. I cursed and cried, almost bitter about my own ability to perform such a task burning inside with the frustration of the challenge and fear of failure. But when the clock ticked at the 8 week mark I lifte...

A few months ago, when it was finally time to strap on the athletic shoes, and tighten up my armband, pump up the motivational music, and head out for some exercise, I had a very specific vision in my mind. It was that of a fit, tan version of me wearing a bra top and spandex shorts prancing elegantly through the canopy of trees while my longer than real life pony tail bobs left to right with the rhythm. The reality has been more like a fully dressed mom in physical recovery purposefully engaging every muscle and posture depicted in "how to run well" guides. The look on my face is strained as though it will help the calories burn faster. What I am really thinking is, "Can I make it to the next mailbox on this street?" In moments of sheer exhaustion I have found myself buying into the "walking is better for your body" propaganda. Thanks to my partner, I have not given up. We started a couch to 5k app on our phones, and through days of excitement and dread...