What is it about that weekend that just sends it hurling through time and space and leaves just a speck, a tiny glisten in your rear view? Someone’s got a case of the Monday’s today and that someone is me. Humph.
I didn’t even really do anything on the weekend but I want it back. Perhaps the fact that I “didn’t really do anything” is exactly why I want it back, as I sit at work now with my eyes rolling into the back of my skull, bored and uninspired. Sure I got my laundry done, cleaned up a bit, spend a load of time with Dakota (time ALWAYS well spent), even went out for a nice dinner with Matt’s brother and his fiance – but I can’t help but feel like I still missed out; like I didn’t use that time wisely enough.
That is something that I’ve been struggling a lot with, actually. More than ever I find myself wondering if I am simply wasting too much time. And at this point I’m not even sure if that desire not to waste time, the time spent thinking about time and whether or not I deem certain things “worthwhile” or not is helping me achieve my goals, or if it’s hindering them. I wonder if we, as a species as a whole, spend too much time in our own heads, and if we spent more time or focused on energy outwards into the world, we’d be better off.
Healthier. Fitter. Happier.
Those three words are pretty much my focus of 2017. At least, I want them to be. The question that always lurks in the shadows is how to achieve that.
“Well you want to be healthier, so, you know, eat healthier.” Well yeah. Anybody who frequents this space on Wednesdays knows that I am striving for that. But health is about more than eating the right foods and saying no to that second scoop of ice cream. Mental health is where I face my biggest challenges, and although I live in a country with incredible resources, I have to work every single day to feel “healthy”. Last week you may have noticed I missed Week 3 – and I’ll tell you now it is for no other reason than I simply wasn’t feeling up to writing. I wasn’t feeling up to keeping an accurate check on my food diary. I wasn’t feeling up to every scheduled run. On some days, I wasn’t feeling up to leaving the house. So, yeah, I missed it – sorry, but, sometimes I just don’t feel up to fighting myself. So I gave in to what I thought my body needed at the time – less time on social media, less time communicating (always a mistake, for the record), and simply less activity in general. And you know what I have to show for that? For the whole week? Nothing. I went to work. I hated every minute. I went home and played with Dakota and hung out with my fiance (better) but ultimately, I don’t have much to show for last week and I’m not so sure I’m okay with that.
Fitter? Well, that’s mental, too. Trust me, I know. They say the hardest step for a runner is the first one out their front door, and I really couldn’t agree with that more. I went running this weekend and felt great during and after – the before is when I start thinking, “What if my breathing sucks and I have to stop? What if I don’t feel up to doing the 8k my plan tells me I’m supposed to do today?”
Atychiphobia: more commonly known as a Fear of Failure – it’s something I am currently completely fascinated by because it is increasingly obvious to me that it is something I am affected by. But it’s stupid, isn’t it? Fundamentally, the fear of failure is absolutely asinine. Fear of failure serves to do nothing other than to deter you from trying. Think about how many times in your life you’ve tried something, whether it’s food, a sport, a card game – and you enjoyed it. I’m willing to bet the number of times you were pleasantly surprised by trying something greatly outweighs the amount of times you regret trying. I consider that true for myself, as well, just so we’re clear. I am more often pleased and happy to try something new than I am regretful of it – and yet, I also know that I am a total professional self-sabatoger. One of my newer 2017 resolutions is to get a better handle on why that is and how to move beyond it.
Happier. The heavyweight. The end goal. The trophy. This is arguably the most challenging one, isn’t it? Happiness is defined differently by everyone. For some, being a successful working professional is their Everest. For others, having a family is their Everest. For what I imagine is a much smaller percentage, climbing Mount Everest is literally their Everest. My point is, everyone is different and nobody can tell you what that thing is, you really just have to figure it out yourself through good old fashioned trial and error – also known as the process of trying.
As January comes to a close I find myself feeling a little stuck, but mostly optimistic (funny considering the state of the world these days, which seems to be striving to drive hate and fear into our daily lives…but that’s another issue.) I think the biggest thing to remember is that you can’t move forward without moving your feet, one at a time. Even if you’re going at a slower pace than the seasoned pro’s, you’re still moving forwards. Progress is progress, and the only time wasted is the time you don’t enjoy.
So, what’s my Everest?
I guess I’ll have to think about it.