Simplification for better living.

I've decided to embark on a "happiness project"; actually, it's more of a "Simplification for Happiness" project. I'm not sure exactly what form it will eventually take, but clearly I work better with some sort of a plan in place. (I've learned that much from my marathon training.)

First I want to get rid of stuff. I really just want to clear out and give myself some space.

Then I really need to get a handle on my finances. (I probably should start with that. It would relieve a lot of stress.)

Connected to this is to just quit spending. If I don't need it and I don't love it, I shouldn't buy it. Period. (I was thinking about instituting a "consumables only" rule but it seems rather harsh. I think I'll start with no new clothes. That seems reasonable to try again.)

Then the focus needs to shift to what matters. What do I want in my space? How can I start working towards what I want to do?

So this is where I am on this new year. It's not exactly a resolution and yet, I guess it is. It's a resolution to live better.

Oh-- add time management into this as well. Procrastination and "drifting" are problematic.

Llama or turtle? Doesn't matter.

While it would be nice to be fast, there's something to be said for slow and (relatively) steady. I finished marathon #2. Last year wasn't a fluke. I did it again.

I am ready.

I am carbed, hydrated and stretched.
I am relaxed.
I am excited.
I am ready to run a marathon.

Am I a marathoner?
Yes, I am.
Can I run 26.2 miles?
Yes, I can!

(Am I a nerd? Clearly.)

Time for me.

This is such an important idea. My "me" time has been running time although I've really struggled to stick to a consistent schedule this fall. Why? I seem to put other things first. Okay, not all other things-- just work. Why is work the priority? Shouldn't doing things that make me a better person take precedence? I don't mean just running but really allowing myself the time to spend on developing relationships and self-improvement through reading and learning about things that matter to me. It's so easy to get swept up in overworking because the job just doesn't end at 2:20 (or even 3:20, 4:20, 5:20). And yet, I don't feel like I'm doing a very good job much of the time. I need to remember to step back and limit the impact of work on my day and figure out how to reprioritize for happiness.

What are bootstraps and how do I pick myself up with them?

I've gone right down the tubes. Work started again. Free time became more limited and I just quit writing.

I'm a blogging failure.

Or am I? I'm not quite ready to quit.

This goes back to the whole idea of self definition. In my mind I was a runner. I had no reason to see myself as a runner, but it was somehow part of my subconcious. Likewise, I am a writer. I don't know how to get this part of me "out," but if I can run a marathon, I can become an author.

Yikes. An author? That just kind of popped out. Maybe that's my next step. Maybe I can go from writer to author.

I went from wanna-be runner to marathoner so maybe it's not so far-fetched.

Create my own reality-- I am an author.

New sneaks.

They just arrived and I put them on immediately. I believe they are magical and will make me a better runner. (If I can make my own reality, why not give myself magical running shoes?)

These shoes will help revive Powerhouse and Hammer. These shoes will remind me with each step that I am strong. These shoes have a lot of work ahead of them.

Today I did 4 miles. I alternated running and walking. It wasn't pretty and it wasn't fast, but I did my daily mileage.

Keeping my routine is all I can do. I will get better again. How do I know? I've been here before. I can do this and the new shoes (and socks) will help!

The act of creation.

I'm back to creating my own reality. What the world says doesn't matter so much as my interpretation and reaction. That's what's real. Okay. I am a llama. I am a runner. I am a marathoner. I am strong. I am motivated. I am ready to do this and to do this well.

I will create the reality that suits me best as I go along. I'm off for a good run. Come run with me.

Today I walked.

Yep. I took off the pressure of running. I think I either pulled my hamstring or it's just really tight but either way, running didn't seem like a good idea. In order to get myself moving, I decided to walk my "required" three miles.

I walk almost as quickly (or slowly)as I run. Huh.

At any rate, my leg feels better. My brain feels better and my mood is better. Tomorrow's another chance to do well again.

What's going on?

I have no motivation to run. None. I was awake at 6 this morning. It's not humid out. Really an ideal day to get moving and yet I delayed and procrastinated so I wouldn't have to go. I know I should go. I know I should want to go. I know that I'll feel better after I go, but I just don't feel like it.

I think I became disheartened again last week when two clearly out of shape, overweight women ran past without struggling or breathing heavy or anything. And then there's me at the side of the trail gasping like a landed fish. I know it shouldn't matter, but it does.

Enough. I'm going to punish my lack of motivation by cleaning the house. If that doesn't convince me I need to get out, I don't know what will.

Can't sleep.

It's 3:43 in the morning. Exactly. I can't sleep. I think my "monkey mind" is on overdrive. The house, money, running, time, responsibilities... it's all there in one massive jumble. I don't know how to sort it all out. I know, I know, one thing at a time but that's far easier said than done.

Running shouldn't be a source of stress, neither should the house. Intellectually, I know this but emotionally it's all somehow connected.

And now it's 3:46. At 3:12(I know the exact time because I looked at the clock)I gave up shifting around to find a comfortable position. There's no comfort to be found tonight. So now I sit and write and think.

I'll have a glass of water and then go back to bed. If I'm going to enjoy relief from my "to do" list, I'm going to need my energy.

This is absurd.

There's no other word for it but "absurd." How is it possible that I can't run a mile and yet last year I ran a marathon? I feel like I can't breathe and my legs are made of lead. Unbelievable. Last year I ran four miles on the fourth. This year? Not a chance. I ran two and a half and needed to walk after each half mile. I am so annoyed with myself and I'm struggling to understand how I've gotten into such poor shape. I guess consistency is key.

I need to stop whining and keep running.

I am a llama.

26:33

That's where I'm starting for two miles. Yep. It took nearly a half hour to run the park. So, this is my baseline and you know what? It doesn't matter. It's where I'll begin.

Again.

The good thing this time around is that I know what I need to do and I know how good I'll feel doing it. I can build up. I've done it. I'm out of shape, but that will change. I've done it. Yes, I can. Yes, I will.

One more time.

I signed up to run the Philly marathon again. I need a goal. I liked myself better when I was running. Fresh start with a goal of a sub-5 hour race. :) I can do this (better).

Excuses, excuses.

I spend more time worrying about not doing. I need to just go. In my head I'm ready, but I'm allowing nonessentials to waste my time. I thought I'd already rededicated myself to the run. I need to do it again. Tomorrow I will run. I am making a promise to my thighs, to my belly, and to my "pilot light." Powerhouse and Hammer need to be revived.

Choices.

Today the weather was 50 degrees and raining. It was cold and miserable and just plain old unpleasant. Today was the kind of day where you just want to get home and take a nap.

I ran.

I'll admit that I didn't really want to. I actually started driving home instead of to the park because the rain was so heavy that I just didn't feel like going. And then I passed some guy out there on the road running. I did a u-turn and went to the park. It wasn't guilt, it was the idea that this was my choice. I wanted to do this for me. I keep saying that I need to begin again, so I need to "walk the walk" or in this case, "run the run."

It was cold. It was wet. It was a relief to get out and just focus on moving.

I am a runner and runners run.

Begin again?

It was a bad idea to take off a month. I had no idea that I would regress so quickly. I ran earlier this week and again this morning. Only three miles both times and of that three, I probably walked almost one. Ugh. I feel as if I've lost all of the stamina and strength that I'd gained over the past year. One month of inconsistency and boom. Done. Weak. It's depressing.

I figure I have two choices: I can quit now and just figure that I ran a marathon so I don't need to keep this up. Why "torture" myself? Or, I can remember how good it feels to be strong. Remember how good it feels to forget everything but movement. Remember how good it feels to accomplish a goal.

This is really a pointless argument. I know what I'll do. I'll begin again.

POST Note: I just reread some entries from November and December. It's the mental ass-kick I needed. I'll stop whining and start running. I am a llama. I am a llama.

What to do?

I am so confused anymore. I sit and wonder and think and sit some more. What now? I just don't know what to do about anything.

In five minutes I will go running. In five minutes I will move to reassume control of my world. In five minutes I will begin to rebuild again.

There's always tomorrow.

I haven't written in nearly a month. Nothing's wrong, just don't know what to say. Lots of stuff on my mind, but too much is too personal. If I write it, it's real and I have to deal with it or at the very least think about it.

And so I practice my exceedingly well developed avoidance techniques. I am too busy to worry about my life's minutiae. (What if it's really big stuff-- maxutiae? Don't know.)

I need to begin again.

Tomorrow.

Struggling with simplification.

Who knew that it would so difficult to stop shopping and simplify my world? First, the simplification-- I cleaned my closet, pulled the things that I no longer love, have been stagnating under the bed or buried in a corner and sold them on eBay. So far, I've sold twelve things and made almost 300.00.

Nice, right?

Here's the problem. I want to spend my "found" money on more stuff. It's a vicious cycle. On one hand I'm happy to be gaining some breathing room, and yet the other part of me, (apparently it's rather obsessive) wants to refill that space with something (or somethings) new. My goal of zen-like empty spaces is proving difficult to achieve. Again, it's the idea of changing from an "I want" perspective to an "I need" point of view. It isn't easy.

I suppose I could rationalize it by telling myself that selling twelve and say gaining three is still a net loss of nine items. But I see that logic for what it is-- an excuse for my lack of willpower.

The world is white.

I don't remember the last time I've seen so much snow. We got about 12 inches on Saturday, another 8 last night and now at least another 4 since this morning. It's beautiful. I love being forced to stay home. I managed a walk earlier today up to the grocery store (we needed chocolate chips for cookies) but other than that, I don't have to go anywhere or do anything. It's a "free" day. If this keeps up, I'll be off tomorrow too.

That said, I haven't been able to run. I am feeling monstrously bloated and fat but figure I'll make up for it in the coming weeks.

I keep thinking about happiness and joy. Maybe instead of starting statements with "I want..." I need a different opener. "I want" seems to lead toward material things. I'm trying (although not as successfully as I'd hoped) to reduce my materialism/ consumerism. In the past "What if" hasn't been particularly useful-- that seems to breed inactivity and paralysis. Maybe I should begin "I need."

What do I need?

Seeking joy.

I was finally able to run today after two weeks off. I had hoped that running would shove some of the mind-gunk out of the way and free the ideas that live in my brain.

No such luck.

It appears I have only one thought lately and that is the idea of seeking joy. I just want to be happy. Actually, I should amend that statement. There's "happy" and then there's "happy." I know, what's the difference? The first is how I feel now: I am happy. I am thankful for what I have in my life and know that I am very fortunate in many ways. The other "happy" is the deep, down know in my core (at risk of sounding too "out there") that I'm in tune with the universe. Right place, right time, right everything. Is it wrong to want to feel that joyful? Is that even a normal thing to desire? I don't want to walk around with a silly smile plastered on my face. That's not joy to me. I just want to feel like I'm doing my best job fulfilling my purpose (whatever that purpose may be)and thereby feeling happy on the inside pretty much all the time.

This is what I think about. A lot.

Just thinking, not writing.

I haven't written because I haven't been running and the two seem to be connected. I think the running helps me organize my thinking which allows me to formulate my writing. If my thinking is scattered, my writing is scattered. That's the way it goes.

With luck, I'll be back in the park tomorrow after a forced nonrunning period thanks to yet another cold. That should set the brain in motion for some good, thoughtful discourse.

I can only hope.

Enjoy the quiet.

Yesterday late afternoon by the lake was beautiful. The orange light illuminated the boathouse and the ice on the water.

Nothing moved. Nothing made noise.

I stopped at the two mile mark simply to enjoy the quiet.Pausing allowed me to quiet my brain and just "be." I stood still for maybe five minutes before resuming my run back along the trail, to the car, to the noise.

I need to pause more often.

I might become a vegetarian.

I'm not entirely sure what possessed me, but I today I decided that would make chicken soup, homemade- from- scratch chicken soup.

Let me just pause here and review my culinary achievements-- I can make a consistently fabulous quiche, excellent fried potatoes with sundried tomatoes, and salad (occasionally topped with skinless, boneless grilled chicken). Aside from that, I am limited to what can be boiled, sauced, and consumed. But I figure soup is boiled, right? How hard can it be? People the world over eat chicken soup in some manifestation, don't they?

So after our walk, I googled "easy chicken soup recipe." Got hundreds of hits-- sites from the Food Network (Hello, Alton) to "Mama's best for a cold." I chose one that looked simple-- boil a chicken, pull the meat off, add the vegetables, simmer, enjoy. Hah. I could do this.

I quickly walked to the local grocery store for the chicken and celery. Amid a few minor misgivings, I picked a chicken.

This might be a good time to explain that I have a few food-related quirks. I don't like to eat foods that look like what they were before they became dinner-- whole lobsters, crabs, or meat on the bone. I think it’s the legs. During Thanksgiving, I can't watch my brother in law carve the turkey but have no problem eating the results of his labor. The exceptions to this loosely defined rule are shrimp wearing only their tails and mussels because they don't resemble real animals anyway. When I'm making dinner if I encounter anything that suggests the ingredient before me had another life, I get queasy.

Back to the story at hand, I quickly reviewed with the helpful woman behind the deli counter that I had chosen the correct fowl for the job and verified that yes, it would have to be cleaned out. (I vaguely remember learning that the gizzards and such were stuffed inside turkeys so thought this might be the same.)

Back in the kitchen I encountered the first problem. I cut the plastic and dumped the bird unceremoniously on the counter. I didn’t want to touch it. It looked like a small, dead animal (which of course, it is). Its little legs and wings were tucked against its body. Gingerly, I flipped it over. Where's the hole to pull out the guts? After staring at it for five minutes, I knew there was no way I'd stick my hand into this thing. I call Alan. After expressing his disbelief that I couldn’t find the guts (I lied. I didn't tell him that I was so repulsed that I couldn’t touch it.) he flipped it around, jammed his whole hand into it, and pulled out who-knows-what. I stifled a gag. He rinsed it, dropped it in the pot, and left for Home Depot.

The chicken was now bathing in a gently boiling bath of hot water. The recipe said to do this for about 40 minutes. So here's the second problem-- I maneuvered the bird out of the pot using a salad tong and a big spoon. The skin split along its back. I shifted it in the bowl by pulling on its leg. It separated from the body. I really don't think I can do this. It still looked like a chicken to me, not like an innocuous piece of meat. I tossed a modesty towel over it while it cooled, telling myself it's to help it cool more slowly to preserve the flavor (not sure where I came up with that one) when really covering it allowed me to avoid looking at it. In the meantime, I chopped the veggies. No problem there. Carrots don't have beating hearts. Ever.

After the recommended cool down period, I tentatively peeked under the towel. I can do this. It's just a bird. People do this all the time. It's not like I'm a chicken (no pun intended). I am adventurous. I am daring.

I touched its skin. It was gray. I attempted to peel it back with a fork. It split. I turned the casserole bowl it's in-- maybe the other side would be better, easier. It isn't. I couldn’t do this. I just couldn’t. And suddenly not only did I not want to touch it, I didn’t even want it in the kitchen. Frantically I grabbed two plastic grocery bags. (I was afraid it might break through one and then I'd have to pick it up.)

Arranging the bags over the carcass, I flipped it, bowl and all, into the bags, looked away, retrieved the bowl, and quickly tied the handles closed. Then it was out the back door into a waiting trash can.

I just threw away dinner. The guilt. The waste. Now what? Alan was expecting homemade chicken soup. I feel like a failure.

There was boneless, skinless chicken breast in the refrigerator. I cooked some of that and then substituted it for the whole one figuring he’d never know the difference. I cooked it, chopped it up (no skin, bones or legs here), and tossed it into the broth with the veggies. I am saved from culinary embarrassment.

Alan came home, looked in the pots on the stove, mentioned the great smells then asked what I did with the bones. He dipped a spoon into the pot. His expression told me it wasn’t good. I know I looked guilty. I confessed almost instantly. His reaction confused me. He seemed puzzled that I couldn’t dismember a chicken. My squeamishness surprised him.

The moment passed.

It looks like we'll be having salad for dinner tonight.

Just say, "Thank you."

Actually, I'm struggling with feelings of discontent at the moment. I'm restless and anxious and looking for change.

All the more reason (I suppose) to pause and say "thank you."

I need to practice gratitude for the good things in my life. Today I am grateful for a job that challenges me and keeps me thinking. That's about the most positive spin I can put on a situation that is so frequently frustrating. If I can indeed create my own reality (as the Book says) then I will focus on the good and the fact that I am helping at least some of the students through my teaching. I am helping myself by having to think and consider and learn. Therefore, my new "reality" will reflect that work is a place of positive engagement and overcoming difficulities.

Okay, so I need another, real "blessing" to focus on. I am grateful for clear weather that lets me get back outside. :)

Looking back; moving forward.

I realize that making resolutions is often an exercise in futility. Usually within a week I've forgotten my original plan or it's so general (ie. be a better person) that it is essentially meaningless.

This year I'm going to try something different. I have a 3-parter. The first deals with the ongoing desire to simplify and my need to become more financially responsible.

I'm not entirely sure how it happened (or when) but I have become a shopper. Used to be that I'd buy new clothes when the old ones were worn out/ didn't fit or for a special occasion. Somehow that morphed into, "Oh, that's cute. It fits me well. I like it. I work hard. It should be mine" thinking. As a result (by my standards, not in comparison to many other people), I have a lot of clothes. I spend too much time worrying/ thinking/ considering buying clothes. So that's new year's resolution #1-- a moratorium on shopping for clothes--including shoes-- for 2010. I tried to do this earlier this year and was doing well until running provided all sorts of excuses for needing clothes. Once the initial permission was granted, I just kind of kept going.

There will, of course, have to be a few exceptions. "Foundation garments" (hah-- that's such a funny term) may need to be replaced. One other addendum is if I knit it, I can wear it. I have a sweater on the needles and another that I'm planning to make. I think it's reasonable that if it constitutes a creative endeavor, it should be allowed. (Not to mention the fact that I'm such a slow knitter it will likely take all year to produce one wearable item!)

The only other exception would be a "special event" purchase-- new running shoes would fall under that category but not any more shorts/ shirts/ etc. I suppose they could be considered a "foundation" garment in some circles since they are essential.

I'll have to keep updates on how this one is progressing. It doesn't seem like it should be an unreasonable goal, but I'm embarrassed to say it will be difficult.

The next goal is to have more communication with friends. So, I'm aiming for a once weekly "live" connection to a non-work-related friend. Doesn't seem like much, but I've been really reclusive lately.

Finally, I want to spend this year reconnecting with my thinking self. I want less "fluff" and more substance in my reading so it's off the computer and into the books.

This is enough for now. If I can do these three things, I will be on my way to fulfilling that nebulous catch-all resolution of becoming a better person.