You Never Forget Your First

Last spring I parked my little gold Corolla on a side street in Downtown Boulder while I spent a full day in a strategy meeting.  It was overcast and drizzly all day, and when I returned to my car for the ride home, the driver's seat was soaking wet.  So wet, that when I got home, my pants were drenched and dripping when I changed out of them.  I assumed that I had left a window cracked, and chastised myself accordingly.  Then, later in the week I found myself getting splashed in the face periodically while driving in the rain.

I checked the window, which was definitely closed.  Befuddled, I followed the drops to a seam along the windshield.  On the outside along the glass, the car has rust spots that prevented me from having the pocked windshield replaced a couple of years ago because once removed, nobody could guarantee they would be able to properly install another piece of glass.  (Apparently this is a common issue with Japanese cars from the late 90's.)  I called my dad with a heavy heart to ask about potential remedies, and he casually delivered the news that it was probably time to let the car go.

We coasted through the dry Colorado summer without incident, but when her registration came due in August, I decided it would be silly to keep a car during the winter that I couldn't stay dry(or keep passengers dry) in during inclement weather.  I followed the advice on the radio and donated my loyal vehicle to CPR for auction.  I know it's silly to have become so attached to a possession, but when the man came to take her, and loaded her onto a tow truck behind a Saab that had all of its back windows smashed out, my heart broke a little.

We had a great 13 years together, and I am so grateful for having had such reliable transportation.  I bought her a week before I needed to be back on campus to start my senior year at DePauw.  She needed an O2 sensor pretty early on, and I replaced the struts and the clutch at 120K.  I could change the oil myself, and the mechanics of the engine are in fine shape - cosmetically, the car is just falling apart.  I've put up with a lot of little issues, though, because the task of replacing a low-maintenance manual transmission that averaged 40 mpg is a tall order in our current automated and computerized society.

Together we managed 6 interstate moves, 2 degrees, launched a business, and taught 4 boyfriends how to drive a stick shift.  We explored the Midwest, the Rocky Mountains, the Southwestern Desert, and endured countless hours on I-70.  We listened to lots of books on tape(then CD, when I upgraded her deck), scanned the radio in at least 15 different states, and hosted joyful dance parties for one.  When my other golden sidekick joined my life, I got to bring Bosco along for the ride, and the window was the perfect height for him to sit in the back seat and still have his ears flap in the wind.  

To my perfect-for-me '98, thank you for the years of protection, opening up possibilities and adventures, and helping me "get things done."  You've set the bar high, and no matter what I drive in the future, you'll always be my favorite.

You Choose Your Path; How Heavy it Can Be

Shame on me, for feeling guilty about every time I only ran a half-mile and squeaked out an abbreviated weight circuit. Shame on me for berating myself each week I was only able to fit in one or two workouts, instead of meeting my goal of three or four.

I've been making a lot of excuses since February, and let my workout routine lapse. After we got back from vacation at the beginning of June, I spent some focused time setting goals and outlined a new plan to get back into shape. I laid out an incremental series of cardio exercises to edge myself back up to my 2-mile run. I organized my list of weight-lifting exercises by the muscle groups they activate, and created an order that would effectively give each group time to recover before they were focused on again. I created a system to track my progress, which, I know from experience, is key to motivating myself on this front.

All of this background is to explain why and how I've been tracking my workouts intently over the past month, and to give context to an epiphany I had reviewing my data. (I know I'm a nerd. Live and let live.)

For the last three years, I've been tracking my outside workouts with an app that uses my phone's GPS to record distances, and keeps track of my speed. Looking up some details about my paces that had been recently recorded, I figured out that I have tracked 291 activities, averaging 1.87 mi each. I've tracked a total of 423 miles in 3 years!

I know it doesn't hold a candle to someone training for a race, or keeping serious fitness as their priority, but for me? That is a lot of sacred minutes I have put in out on the path. Time I've gotten to spend in my own head, up against my own fears and frustrations and irritations.

It's like Jeff Olsen's Slight Edge principle, you're either moving forwards or backwards - even if it's in tiny little incremental steps. I wouldn't have traveled those 423 miles if I had succumbed to the pressures of a busy schedule and the yearning for sleep. Even on the days I dragged myself out of bed later than I intended and rushed through a shorter run than I wanted, I was making progress.

So the next time I feel inadequate, I hope I can stop feeling guilty about things I haven't accomplished, and remember how far each step forward has brought me.  

But Firmly They Compel Us

We saw the Sound of Music at the Buell this weekend. I used to watch the Julie Andrews film every day when I was little - my parents have VHS evidence somewhere that shows me at 3 years old singing a fully choreographed version of "So Long, Farewell." Because I love the original so much, I went in to this with the expectation that my brain would spend the entire show comparing the actors' voices and mannerisms with the ones I know and love, and that my heart would spend the whole time waxing nostalgic for 1965 Salzburg.

I was blown away by the gorgeous and powerful voice that came floating off of the set when Kerstin Anderson launched into the title track. Aside from a few distracting ticks(how many times can you try to tuck fake hair behind your ear?), this young woman definitely did Fraulein Maria justice. The sets were creative, the lighting was fabulous - especially the scenes in the Abbey that features a bold and colorful back-lit stained glass window. The whole show was very well done, and we enjoyed it immensely.

However, the historic context of how Germany and Austria divided their loyalties based on Hitler's manipulation of politics struck a little too close to home. I know that my 3-yr-old self did not understand the reasons why Liesl couldn't pursue a relationship with Rolf, or why the Captain was so upset at finding the flag of a party he despised in his front yard upon returning from his honeymoon. But as an adult, my heart is aching for our country, after considering the trials families went through during that period to pursue their basic freedoms.

Austrian citizens who did not appreciate Hitler's dictated rules were cast out of their community, and eventually their country by those who blindly followed his hatred and division. Our country is so dramatically polarized right now, it's impossible not to wonder if we are not headed toward a similar fate. Parties, issues, media - no matter what topic you ask people about, you will get passionate responses that are so evenly divided - 48%/52%, 45%/55%, 51%/49%. No matter where your alliances fall, you are up against the other half of Americans who believe that the opposite approach is best.

I have been distraught about the current election cycle for months now. Each day brings to light another reason I am terrified for our future. So many Americans are unhappy with our current state of affairs, and so many people disagree on how we can get ourselves back on track. How can we find compromises that will move us collectively in a positive direction, and won't further the divides that are growing? There's no right answer, but there has to be a better solution than packing up your family in the middle of the night and seeking asylum with a neighbor to the north.

Getting Acquainted With the Edge

There has been a lot of spring/summer construction in Boulder County over the past couple of months, which has resulted in a lot of extra traffic. All of the major roads we could take to get into town have some project in the works, and I have started to add an additional 5-10 minutes to my commute times knowing that I will encounter the neon vests standing at the side of the road with the Stop sign on a stick, and end up in a line of cars waiting to pass. (Not an easy feat for someone who serially runs 5 minutes late!)

Because of this, I've spent more time than usual stuck in my little car, frustrated with everything around me that is out of my control. NPR can only distract me for so long before my mind continues creating what-if scenarios that have little chance of ever becoming a reality, but have a very powerful impact on the ball of panic that grows so easily in my chest when my imagination takes over. Did I mention that my air conditioning needs to be re-charged, so I've been experiencing this with my windows down, trying to sweat as little as possible as June's dry 90's circulates through the vehicle?

I've been trying to use this time to practice accepting the fact that I can control very little! I've been focusing on the moment, appreciating natural beauty of the Boulder trees that line the roads and the spectacular clouds that decorate the Colorado blue skies. I've been trying to arrest the physical sensations that accompany my anxiety with breathing mantras and EFT tapping, and have been able to successfully bring my attention back to the present moment. The deep breathing relieves my muscle tension, and the tapping points have an immediate impact on my physical condition, in the best way. No more panic-induced adrenaline coursing through me, no more frustrated resentful energy blasting at the poor guy holding the stop sign. No more apologizing for things I can't change.

This approach has led me to more easily let life happen as it progresses, and now when I get stopped where Valmont becomes one lane, I'm grateful for the minute or two I have to relax and center myself.

Advice from a mountain

Reach new heights.

There is beauty as far as the eye can see.

Be uplifting.

Get to the point.

Climb beyond your limitations.

Life has its ups and downs.

Enjoy the view.

~ Ilan Shamir

In the Colorado Snow

Walking home under the northern lights

You could see clear across the world to the other side

And the snow fell so still like music to the ground

And I'd take refuge in that holy sound.

(from Jennifer Berezan's "Refuge")

We got about ten inches of snow over the past 24-hours, so school was canceled for the day. That meant that my appointments were all rescheduled, and Brian stayed in to work from home. This also meant that Bosco got to spend some time watching us wrestle with the layer covering the driveway and sidewalk, which entertained him much more than us.

After a couple of weeks wishing we could move past the bitter cold and into spring, this shock of winter has reminded me of the joy that we find in snuggling in for a day to watch the peaceful world blanketed in white outside.