Pause

I love and hate long weekends and vacations. Regular weekends give me just enough time to take a breather to recharge for another week at work, but anything longer than two days almost always forces me to reflect on how much better life would be beyond work and schedules and to-dos. With a four day weekend, not every day needs to be action packed. We can take a day to explore the hills on our bikes, enjoy coffee and books for hours, doze on the couch, stroll the neighborhood.. yet on the last day of this lovely pause from the usual pace of life, the anxiety builds, almost by the hour. 

And here I am today, checking the time at 4:30 AM, then 5:15 AM, the 5:52 AM. Alarm goes off at 6 and I'm out of bed, anxious to get moving before I talk myself out of my run. I might have enjoyed the extra sleep, but I was honest with myself in knowing that I'd only check the time at least four more times before giving up on sleep. 

Up at 6. Pre-workout at 6:05. Start running at 6:10. Stop running at 6:55. Start strength training at 7. Make breakfast at 7:20. Eat and "relax" from 7:30 - 8. Leave the house at 8:45. On. The. Dot. 

Long weekends and vacations force me to think about why this matters, and why our finite lives are so backward that 5 days of the week are spent rushing and being stressed, 1 day of the week is reserved for fun and relaxation, and for me, the last day is spent stressing about the next 5 days of stress. Every week. For the next... 30 years?

Need more of this

It's 7:58. Time to get ready for work.

So this happened last night

This is what happens when you come home after at 15 hour day to find a waffle maker and Hyperbole and a Half on your doorstep. Breakfast at 9 PM? That's cool.

I wish I had stayed in bed

One of my least favorite parts of my day is when the alarm goes off at 6 AM. I'm warm and cozy under my electric blanket, my husband is fast asleep next to me, and my dog is snoring between us. This time of year, I wake up and know that our house will be dark and freezing, and that if I wanted to, I could easily sleep another hour, or brew a pot of coffee and curl up downstairs with a book next to the fire. I usually wake up an hour before my alarm, then 30 minutes, then 10, and contemplate all of the ways I can convince myself that I deserve to stay in bed. 

When then alarm finally buzzes, I rush to silence it before my husband wakes up and I get moving. The bathroom lights are glaring and I wish I had stayed in bed. I tiptoe downstairs in the dark, shivering, and I wish I had stayed in bed. I mix and choke down my powdered pre-workout, and I wish I had stayed in bed. I tiptoe back up stairs, flip on the lights of my workout room, look at the treadmill, and wish I had stayed in bed. 

I slip on my running shoes, pop my earbuds in, and choose a Pandora station with a beat, usually something I'd be embarrassed to listen to in public. Then I start an easy jog. 

In less than a minute, I'm no longer wishing I had stayed in bed. I have never finished a workout and thought it was a bad idea. Never. 

I'm on day three of overcoming my "stay in bed…" voice, after three months of hitting the snooze button every day and subsequently feeling terrible about myself. After three days of ignoring the "stay in bed.." demon, I feel better than I have in months. Running makes me happy and runner's high is for real. 

This

Loving this today. I am a "Yes" girl, and its stressing me out.

In Ten Years

In ten years, well before I hit 40, I want to have accomplished the following:

• Travelled abroad for a year
• Completed another Ironman triathlon
• Taken a trip with my brother
• Hit a six figure salary
• Paid off my house
• Visit my mother's family abroad
• Get my masters
• Develop a side business
• Reached my 13th wedding anniversary
• Be healthy
• Be happy
• Be satisfied

I have little doubts that I can accomplish all of these things. I'm blessed with a lot of luck - family who cares and is responsible, living and working in a successful industry and job market, decent decision-making on my part thus far. 

Today when I felt like a failure, with tears in my eyes, by husband held me and wouldn't let go. He said that I needed to remember to give myself a break sometimes, and remember my accomplishments. He's right. I'm more than what I look like or what I eat or what size I am or if I'm the fastest or the best. I get so focused on my daily failures that I forget about my lifetime successes. I can be all of those things I want to be in ten years. I need to remember that.

Wasting Time

If awards were handed out for over-thinkers, I'd win without question. Even that first sentence consisted of type type type...delete...type type..delete..type..delete..type type type.

I live my life nearly paralyzed by indecision. The smallest actions require painful planning, thinking, planning, and because of this I can no longer just be. It's frustrating, and I'm at the point where I can't think of where to go next. This post is vague because I am. Got to get the first one out of the way I suppose.

My happy place

The only goal I have so far is to write something every other day or so and force myself to say something without thinking.