One of my favorite sayings when it comes to yoga is "you do yoga with the body you brought, not the body you want". It really sums up the mindset of there is only now and you shouldn't put off doing yoga (or anything) until some future date when you {insert your personal demon to overcome here}. I can't tell you how many times I've heard people say they 'need to lose weight' before they start yoga or that they can't do yoga 'because they aren't flexible'. It's like saying I'll start living my life when I think I'm good enough to do everything I might ever want to do. I love saying that yoga is a journey not a destination because you start on a journey and end up someplace different. You don't do yoga because you're flexible, you do yoga to gain flexibility. Anyway, stepping of my yoga soapbox and getting back on topic...
Another truth about yoga that most people don't know is that everyone has something they are naturally good at and it's different for everyone. From flexible shoulders, innate upper body strength, open hips to stretchy hamstrings, we all have something we are good at without having to work for it. My blessing is super flexible hamstrings. I can bend over and lay my palms flat on the mat without having to warm up or bend my knees. My first down dog of every practice is all it takes to get my heels flat on the mat. My tall and lanky yoga instructor still can't ever get her heels flat in down dog after more than ten years of teaching. It is just how I'm made. Some might argue it is because I'm short and squat. I'm okay with that being the reason since I like the side effect regardless of how or why it happened.
Two weeks ago, I was blissfully enjoying a seated straddle stretch... picture sitting on your butt with your legs straight and both spread wide, bent over at the waist trying to lay your head on the mat between them. And yes, blissful for me since I always feel accomplished when I can go a little further toward the mat thanks to my hamstrings. And all of a sudden I heard and felt a pop in my upper left leg right under my butt. I ignored it as I have a habit of doing and two days later did my epic one hundred and eight sun salutations to celebrate the solstice. I haven't been the same since.
I took it easy for a week when it was clear I had actually done something to myself. How did I know? I could barely bend at the waist without pain, forget about touching the floor. I even went in for some therapy a week ago with my amazing sister in law. It helped so much that I assumed I was all better. But, this morning I was back to being limited in what I could do.
This is where most people would be disappointed and unhappy that they can't do whatever they want but I saw things differently this morning. Subconsiously I must have known I wasn't one hundred percent because when it was time to set our intention for the morning's practice I decided to focus on just being on the mat and okay with whatever showed up there without judgement. When I had to step out of a pose because it hurt, I just listened and did what my body was telling me rather than pushing through it. When I could have gotten all up in my head about how I could barely bend over in standing straddle stretch when I can usually put my head on the mat, I just did what I could and didn't push it.
Here's the bottom line since I've been thinking about it all day... I'm injured, yes, and will have to take it easy for a while. But that means I've come full circle with my health and fitness and am capable of doing things full out where there is always risk of injury. A year ago yoga was something I did to keep myself sane while dealing with lots of stress associated with a new chronic disease. Now, it is a lifestyle and a way to challenge myself physically as well as emotionally. I'm choosing to look at this injury as a new challenge and a positive indication of how far I've come in my quest back to fit. What a wild journey it has been. And even injured, I still love my hamstrings!
Monday, April 7, 2014
Sunday, April 6, 2014
The Wonder of Diversity in Fiction
Everyone is different, we all know that, right? This week I realized there is far more striking diversity in what people read than I'd ever given thought to. I devoured - and I mean devoured - a book a few weeks back by a fellow author I met at LTUE called Beatrysel. Afterwards I raved about it to everyone I know. And then was shocked - SHOCKED - when one of my besties from my writer's group picked it up and said she just couldn't get into it and didn't really love it. It got me thinking...
I knew that there were different tastes - ten years in a book club has shown that over and over again. In the microcosm of my own book club, there are people who adore the young adult genre even when they are far from the intended demographic the books are written for. There are those who love historical period pieces. And the holocaust. And the classics. And there's a handful of us who love fantasy. An even smaller handful who love horror. And for all of those who love a particular subset of books, the niches they discard are just as varied.
What makes you love what you read and reject what you don't like? I've thought for years that we all read with our own filters. Those experiences we've had in life that taint the glasses we look out from also tend to define how we take things in. Most fiction has one thing in common across all genres - it evokes an emotional response in readers. Based on an individual's emotional make-up, those responses will be different for different books. What a wonderful world we live in that for as many varied kinds of readers, there are that many varied kinds of writers providing the kinds of books everyone everywhere want to read.
I knew that there were different tastes - ten years in a book club has shown that over and over again. In the microcosm of my own book club, there are people who adore the young adult genre even when they are far from the intended demographic the books are written for. There are those who love historical period pieces. And the holocaust. And the classics. And there's a handful of us who love fantasy. An even smaller handful who love horror. And for all of those who love a particular subset of books, the niches they discard are just as varied.
What makes you love what you read and reject what you don't like? I've thought for years that we all read with our own filters. Those experiences we've had in life that taint the glasses we look out from also tend to define how we take things in. Most fiction has one thing in common across all genres - it evokes an emotional response in readers. Based on an individual's emotional make-up, those responses will be different for different books. What a wonderful world we live in that for as many varied kinds of readers, there are that many varied kinds of writers providing the kinds of books everyone everywhere want to read.
Thursday, March 20, 2014
Happy Spring - celebrating with tears of joy
Today is the first day of spring and a huge milestone in the fight to win back my health.
I headed to the doctor this morning for my routine monthly checkup. I had spent almost a week preparing to renegotiate my treatment plan knowing that my lab work from last week showed another marked improvement. It is no secret that I loathe taking prednisone - especially since I can't maintain my weight even though I am a vegetarian who works out six days a week. Which is exactly why I fought taking it as long as I could. The last two months I've had to sit back and watch the number on the scale slowly inch upwards. Yes, slowly. BUT, when faced with the prospect of a small weight gain every month, for an open ended length of time, for a minimum of the next TWO YEARS, that you can do nothing about, it is very discouraging. I was prepared for this "renegotiation" to require a LOT of willpower and I was prepared to bully my doctor if necessary. I wasn't asking to change my treatment, just how long I had to endure it before I could come off of it. When she said "I agree" with zero resistance or hesitation, it threw me right off balance. Wait. You agree? What's going on here?
Then she said the best four words I've heard in a very long time: "You are in remission."
I didn't realize (because clearly she failed to tell me) that I have been in partial remission since December. And now I am in total remission.
Not sure it has fully sunk in, even still.
Yep, still crying tears of joy every time I think about it. Luckily I was able to hold it together until I got to my car...
That isn't even all the great news! I only have to be on this successful treatment plan for a year total from the time I was in partial remission. She said she'd been thinking about it and the recommendation is to do the treatment for one to two years but since I'm doing so well she didn't think I really needed the two years like she told me initially. So here I'd been thinking I had two years from the pie-in-the-sky goal of being in total remission whenever that was when in fact I only have to continue until THIS December. That is less than the time it takes to grow an entire human in my womb. I've done that twice and both times it felt like the time flew by. Eight and a half more months and I'm done. D.O.N.E. - DONE!
But wait, there's more! I'm doing so well, complained enough, and proved that my fear of weight gain was a reality so well (I love data!) that she also lowered my dose of the dreaded prednisone. It is like winning the lottery without even remembering you had bought tickets. An end in sight AND a lower dose of the worst drug I'm taking.
I'm not sure I know how to be this happy.
As amazing as it is, it has only been eleven months since I first showed signs of this crazy disease. I didn't even get my diagnosis until ten months ago. And now I have officially kicked it in the ass all the way to the curb. Fuck you, kidney disease, I'm way stronger and I've proven you are no match for me.
I headed to the doctor this morning for my routine monthly checkup. I had spent almost a week preparing to renegotiate my treatment plan knowing that my lab work from last week showed another marked improvement. It is no secret that I loathe taking prednisone - especially since I can't maintain my weight even though I am a vegetarian who works out six days a week. Which is exactly why I fought taking it as long as I could. The last two months I've had to sit back and watch the number on the scale slowly inch upwards. Yes, slowly. BUT, when faced with the prospect of a small weight gain every month, for an open ended length of time, for a minimum of the next TWO YEARS, that you can do nothing about, it is very discouraging. I was prepared for this "renegotiation" to require a LOT of willpower and I was prepared to bully my doctor if necessary. I wasn't asking to change my treatment, just how long I had to endure it before I could come off of it. When she said "I agree" with zero resistance or hesitation, it threw me right off balance. Wait. You agree? What's going on here?
Then she said the best four words I've heard in a very long time: "You are in remission."
REMISSION.
FULL remission.
I didn't realize (because clearly she failed to tell me) that I have been in partial remission since December. And now I am in total remission.
Not sure it has fully sunk in, even still.
Yep, still crying tears of joy every time I think about it. Luckily I was able to hold it together until I got to my car...
That isn't even all the great news! I only have to be on this successful treatment plan for a year total from the time I was in partial remission. She said she'd been thinking about it and the recommendation is to do the treatment for one to two years but since I'm doing so well she didn't think I really needed the two years like she told me initially. So here I'd been thinking I had two years from the pie-in-the-sky goal of being in total remission whenever that was when in fact I only have to continue until THIS December. That is less than the time it takes to grow an entire human in my womb. I've done that twice and both times it felt like the time flew by. Eight and a half more months and I'm done. D.O.N.E. - DONE!
But wait, there's more! I'm doing so well, complained enough, and proved that my fear of weight gain was a reality so well (I love data!) that she also lowered my dose of the dreaded prednisone. It is like winning the lottery without even remembering you had bought tickets. An end in sight AND a lower dose of the worst drug I'm taking.
I'm not sure I know how to be this happy.
As amazing as it is, it has only been eleven months since I first showed signs of this crazy disease. I didn't even get my diagnosis until ten months ago. And now I have officially kicked it in the ass all the way to the curb. Fuck you, kidney disease, I'm way stronger and I've proven you are no match for me.
Monday, March 17, 2014
Obsessions, confessions and creativity
What a week I just had... or was it ten days? I sort of lost track. It started with this book release that I've been waiting for from this one author - you might have heard of him - Brandon Sanderson. Yeah, I just listened to a FORTY EIGHT HOUR audiobook in just under twelve days. With my life, that is crazy talk. And definitely explains why I have been MIA on my blog. Sorry! But, Words of Radiance is one of those books that reminds me why I love to read so much. Luckily it takes a while for him to write a tome of this magnitude so, while I swore I would never start or commit to another series that wasn't completed after Robert Jordan died - DIED - before finishing my last fantasy obsession, I have a while between books so my life can get back to normal.
Here's another confession - I might have been obsessing about reading because I was hiding from my novel. Creativity is such a bitch some times and this writing thing is HARD work. Sigh. I'm knee-deep in revisions on my novel from November and realized that I started the story halfway through. No biggie, I just need to go back and write the beginning. Problem is, my main character came to me after she'd gotten herself into a predicament and I hadn't given much more than cursory thought about HOW she had gotten there. And every idea I came up with was totally cliche or worse, boring. I rationalized all week that I was "refilling the well" by reading instead of writing. That thinking about my story was the same as writing. After all, I was still thinking about my story. When I wasn't immersed in the world Sanderson built instead of my own that is. Truth is, I barely wrote anything all week.
Sunday I woke up early to a quiet house. Should have gone for a run but instead I brewed a pot of coffee and proceeded to drink the WHOLE thing while sitting on the couch with my headphones plugged into the last hours of my book. Nobody's perfect, right? When it was over, I had nowhere left to hide from my creative road bump I'd been grappling with all week. I dove into a project I've got going with my writer's group (hiding again) and shouted out to Facebook for inspiration. At the end of the day, kids all tucked into bed and Hubby watching his latest installment of Walking Dead, I finally took my own advice and put my butt in the seat and just started writing. I knew it would probably suck. It was first draft territory after all. And, I was probably writing the equivalent of clearing my throat by faking it till I figured it all out. But it wasn't going to write itself. Big girl panties... check.
An hour later, I had exhausted all my coffee reserves and had to force myself to stop. Yes, force. Because a few minutes into it, I found one tiny nugget of inspiration and realized I knew all along what had happened. I just had to get over myself and the irrationality about how I didn't really know (your subconscious isn't really you, right?) Hurdle cleared. Now on to the next one!
Someone this week reminded me that there is a huge difference between talking about writing and actually writing. My life is always an exercise in balance - on steroids most of the time. And while I'm good at juggling everything I'm not always so great at recognizing when I'm telling myself lies about what is really happening. Here's to it getting easier to recognize next time and not wasting any more of my writing time unnecessarily.
Here's another confession - I might have been obsessing about reading because I was hiding from my novel. Creativity is such a bitch some times and this writing thing is HARD work. Sigh. I'm knee-deep in revisions on my novel from November and realized that I started the story halfway through. No biggie, I just need to go back and write the beginning. Problem is, my main character came to me after she'd gotten herself into a predicament and I hadn't given much more than cursory thought about HOW she had gotten there. And every idea I came up with was totally cliche or worse, boring. I rationalized all week that I was "refilling the well" by reading instead of writing. That thinking about my story was the same as writing. After all, I was still thinking about my story. When I wasn't immersed in the world Sanderson built instead of my own that is. Truth is, I barely wrote anything all week.
Sunday I woke up early to a quiet house. Should have gone for a run but instead I brewed a pot of coffee and proceeded to drink the WHOLE thing while sitting on the couch with my headphones plugged into the last hours of my book. Nobody's perfect, right? When it was over, I had nowhere left to hide from my creative road bump I'd been grappling with all week. I dove into a project I've got going with my writer's group (hiding again) and shouted out to Facebook for inspiration. At the end of the day, kids all tucked into bed and Hubby watching his latest installment of Walking Dead, I finally took my own advice and put my butt in the seat and just started writing. I knew it would probably suck. It was first draft territory after all. And, I was probably writing the equivalent of clearing my throat by faking it till I figured it all out. But it wasn't going to write itself. Big girl panties... check.
An hour later, I had exhausted all my coffee reserves and had to force myself to stop. Yes, force. Because a few minutes into it, I found one tiny nugget of inspiration and realized I knew all along what had happened. I just had to get over myself and the irrationality about how I didn't really know (your subconscious isn't really you, right?) Hurdle cleared. Now on to the next one!
Someone this week reminded me that there is a huge difference between talking about writing and actually writing. My life is always an exercise in balance - on steroids most of the time. And while I'm good at juggling everything I'm not always so great at recognizing when I'm telling myself lies about what is really happening. Here's to it getting easier to recognize next time and not wasting any more of my writing time unnecessarily.
Monday, February 24, 2014
Surprising Things I Learned
It's the end of the first week with my new part-time job. What? You didn't realize I have a new job? Yeah, it's called being a writer. And it can be described no more eloquently than how I heard it from a very successful author: "butt in the chair, hands on the keyboard". I know I should remember exactly which famous author from LTUE said it but truthfully I can't remember if it was Larry Correia, Michaelbrent Collings or Johnny Worthen. (How's that for name dropping, huh?) In fact, I think all three of them might have said it which is why I can't remember exactly who it was.
Here's what I've learned so far:
1. The work gets easier the more consistently I do it. And I'm more consistent when my writing time is scheduled in my calendar and everyone knows that's what I'm doing in that time slot. It may be that I slid easily into this habit because it's the same way I navigated writing in November when I did NaNoWriMo, but I also suspect that my logical and organized mind just needed it laid out like another commitment I had to fit into my crazy schedule.
2. Even if I only have a couple of hours on most weekdays and one day of the weekend to devote to writing, I still got FAR more accomplished than I thought I would this week. This was a pretty big surprise for me. In my corporate life, I usually need large chunks of time devoted to enormous projects to make real progress. When I don't get that, it usually is more counterproductive to get going just to have to stop. Writing has proven far different. I can plug away in smaller time increments and still get lots of things done. This week could be an anomaly but I'm guessing it isn't. Even my 'Marathon Sunday' of writing this week included time to get my house clean and my laundry done while taking advantage of my built in breaks. Since my family got my undivided time on Saturday and I wasn't some recluse they didn't see all day on Sunday, my guess is they may just think I'm messing around on Facebook like nothing is different. Won't they be surprised when I have more than a Facebook feed to show for my efforts? Another bonus: I got more sleep this week than I usually do on top of doing more every day. How does that work, I wonder? I'm not complaining but I suspect not watching television has much to do with it.
3. Revision isn't as bad as editing when you look at it as part of the same process of writing. I always thought of the editing process as something separate from writing your first draft. Truth is, once you get the rough draft down, you just keep going and revising (or re-vision-ing as I like to think) until you can't improve it anymore. Even then you will need another set or two of eyes to see what else there is you missed and then if it's good enough to sell to a publisher you'll have to do it all over with their editors. Now that I realize I can't compartmentalize or avoid revision, it is a much more enjoyable process.
I'm currently working on several things. Which I also never trusted could be done when authors talked about writing one book and editing another. I'm brewing a new story in the back of my subconscious while I work on revisions of the novel I wrote last November. I finished reading through the first draft after I let it sit for a couple of months so I was reading with fresh eyes and a memory that had faded a bit. I found lots of plot points that needed to be fleshed out or tweaked for consistency and now I'm seeing the entire whole for places that can be improved. I find so much excitement working with a finished draft because the bare bones of the story are all there and now I'm just adding organs and connecting tissue to bring it more fully to life.
I love going back and seeing how things shift for me years down the road so I'm going to keep documenting what I think of as "My novel project" for my own hindsight as I explore what works for me and what doesn't. Why have a blog if not for your own personal benefit, right? I'll also keep regaling my faithful readers (all ten of you?) with the craziness of the rest of my life. Hopefully you'll remain entertained and keep coming back. If I learned anything from attending LTUE it is that I've grown as a writer the last four years even if it was in miniscule steps I didn't realize until I look back and compare then to now. If you need me, I'll be reading, drinking excessive amounts of coffee, running around with my hair on fire to keep up with where me or my kids need to be, and writing into the wee hours of the night. My goal is to have my revisions done of my current novel by the end of the summer.
Here's what I've learned so far:
1. The work gets easier the more consistently I do it. And I'm more consistent when my writing time is scheduled in my calendar and everyone knows that's what I'm doing in that time slot. It may be that I slid easily into this habit because it's the same way I navigated writing in November when I did NaNoWriMo, but I also suspect that my logical and organized mind just needed it laid out like another commitment I had to fit into my crazy schedule.
2. Even if I only have a couple of hours on most weekdays and one day of the weekend to devote to writing, I still got FAR more accomplished than I thought I would this week. This was a pretty big surprise for me. In my corporate life, I usually need large chunks of time devoted to enormous projects to make real progress. When I don't get that, it usually is more counterproductive to get going just to have to stop. Writing has proven far different. I can plug away in smaller time increments and still get lots of things done. This week could be an anomaly but I'm guessing it isn't. Even my 'Marathon Sunday' of writing this week included time to get my house clean and my laundry done while taking advantage of my built in breaks. Since my family got my undivided time on Saturday and I wasn't some recluse they didn't see all day on Sunday, my guess is they may just think I'm messing around on Facebook like nothing is different. Won't they be surprised when I have more than a Facebook feed to show for my efforts? Another bonus: I got more sleep this week than I usually do on top of doing more every day. How does that work, I wonder? I'm not complaining but I suspect not watching television has much to do with it.
3. Revision isn't as bad as editing when you look at it as part of the same process of writing. I always thought of the editing process as something separate from writing your first draft. Truth is, once you get the rough draft down, you just keep going and revising (or re-vision-ing as I like to think) until you can't improve it anymore. Even then you will need another set or two of eyes to see what else there is you missed and then if it's good enough to sell to a publisher you'll have to do it all over with their editors. Now that I realize I can't compartmentalize or avoid revision, it is a much more enjoyable process.
I'm currently working on several things. Which I also never trusted could be done when authors talked about writing one book and editing another. I'm brewing a new story in the back of my subconscious while I work on revisions of the novel I wrote last November. I finished reading through the first draft after I let it sit for a couple of months so I was reading with fresh eyes and a memory that had faded a bit. I found lots of plot points that needed to be fleshed out or tweaked for consistency and now I'm seeing the entire whole for places that can be improved. I find so much excitement working with a finished draft because the bare bones of the story are all there and now I'm just adding organs and connecting tissue to bring it more fully to life.
I love going back and seeing how things shift for me years down the road so I'm going to keep documenting what I think of as "My novel project" for my own hindsight as I explore what works for me and what doesn't. Why have a blog if not for your own personal benefit, right? I'll also keep regaling my faithful readers (all ten of you?) with the craziness of the rest of my life. Hopefully you'll remain entertained and keep coming back. If I learned anything from attending LTUE it is that I've grown as a writer the last four years even if it was in miniscule steps I didn't realize until I look back and compare then to now. If you need me, I'll be reading, drinking excessive amounts of coffee, running around with my hair on fire to keep up with where me or my kids need to be, and writing into the wee hours of the night. My goal is to have my revisions done of my current novel by the end of the summer.
Tuesday, February 18, 2014
Being a Writer - a new perspective
I just attended Life, the Universe & Everything (LTUE) - a science fiction and fantasy symposium geared mostly toward writers. It was my second writers conference and the first I've attended in its entirety. I went with my amazing writing group so it was also one of the funnest girls weekend trips I've ever taken. I came away energized and excited about writing in a way I never have been. I attribute this to two reasons.
First, because I got to be the nerdy geek girl I really am at heart. And I mean got to be her FULL OUT. For an entire three days. From sunrise to sunset. I've read science fiction since I picked up "Battlefield Earth" by L. Ron Hubbard when I was in sixth grade and it changed me forever. I found fantasy and horror not long after that and never went back. I loved being able to gush about being literally feet away from my favorite fantasy author (Brandon Sanderson of course). Got to hold in my hand a copy of his latest book that no one anywhere can purchase yet like the holy grail it is. And no one thought I was weird for doing any of it. I was surrounded by my people. And it was heaven. I even ventured into fan-girl insanity by dressing up as a character from one of my favorite novels at the banquet. Which paid off when Brandon Sanderson himself stopped in the middle of his toastmaster address to say "I'm sorry, are you wearing mist cloaks?" and proceeded to complement and make inside jokes about not 'dropping coins' or 'licking the dinnerware' while my writer's group stood for all to see how cool we were. (Sorry if you aren't a nerd and don't get the references. If you want to, read Mist Born!)
Second reason is the perspective I took away from the panels I attended. I realized I've been envisioning this whole 'being a writer' thing in an entirely wrong fashion. Being a writer always looked like: me at a desk in my house, by myself, working hard, and then someday selling books and "making it big". What a bunch of vague and empty terms with no specifics! What I learned is that being a writer - at least the kind where you get paid to do it and make your living solely by writing - can be summed up on a very basic level. IT IS A JOB. Which means you have to build your skill set, start at the bottom, get a ton of experience to put on your resume so you can get the best job. [LIGHT BULB] Just like trying to get a corporate job. Which I already know how to do!
After I appeased my OCD by transcribing (and color coding and organizing for action items) all my handwritten notes from the weekend, I sat down with Hubby and made sure he was on board with me taking on a part time job. Because that's what I'm going to do from here on out. I already proved as recently as this past November that I can have a life and still write fifty thousand words in a month. So, I'll continue to do that every single month from here on out. I'll further tune and hone my skills then build my resume until I land a position with an agent willing to sell my work to publishers. Because those are the nitty-gritty specifics of what it really takes to be the kind of writer I want to be. Finally a project plan for my writing!
Wouldn't it be super cool if one day I was on one of those panels at LTUE? Look out world, the ultimate overachiever has taken things to a new level. If you need me, I'll be somewhere with my hair on fire I'm quite certain!
First, because I got to be the nerdy geek girl I really am at heart. And I mean got to be her FULL OUT. For an entire three days. From sunrise to sunset. I've read science fiction since I picked up "Battlefield Earth" by L. Ron Hubbard when I was in sixth grade and it changed me forever. I found fantasy and horror not long after that and never went back. I loved being able to gush about being literally feet away from my favorite fantasy author (Brandon Sanderson of course). Got to hold in my hand a copy of his latest book that no one anywhere can purchase yet like the holy grail it is. And no one thought I was weird for doing any of it. I was surrounded by my people. And it was heaven. I even ventured into fan-girl insanity by dressing up as a character from one of my favorite novels at the banquet. Which paid off when Brandon Sanderson himself stopped in the middle of his toastmaster address to say "I'm sorry, are you wearing mist cloaks?" and proceeded to complement and make inside jokes about not 'dropping coins' or 'licking the dinnerware' while my writer's group stood for all to see how cool we were. (Sorry if you aren't a nerd and don't get the references. If you want to, read Mist Born!)
Second reason is the perspective I took away from the panels I attended. I realized I've been envisioning this whole 'being a writer' thing in an entirely wrong fashion. Being a writer always looked like: me at a desk in my house, by myself, working hard, and then someday selling books and "making it big". What a bunch of vague and empty terms with no specifics! What I learned is that being a writer - at least the kind where you get paid to do it and make your living solely by writing - can be summed up on a very basic level. IT IS A JOB. Which means you have to build your skill set, start at the bottom, get a ton of experience to put on your resume so you can get the best job. [LIGHT BULB] Just like trying to get a corporate job. Which I already know how to do!
After I appeased my OCD by transcribing (and color coding and organizing for action items) all my handwritten notes from the weekend, I sat down with Hubby and made sure he was on board with me taking on a part time job. Because that's what I'm going to do from here on out. I already proved as recently as this past November that I can have a life and still write fifty thousand words in a month. So, I'll continue to do that every single month from here on out. I'll further tune and hone my skills then build my resume until I land a position with an agent willing to sell my work to publishers. Because those are the nitty-gritty specifics of what it really takes to be the kind of writer I want to be. Finally a project plan for my writing!
Wouldn't it be super cool if one day I was on one of those panels at LTUE? Look out world, the ultimate overachiever has taken things to a new level. If you need me, I'll be somewhere with my hair on fire I'm quite certain!
Monday, February 3, 2014
Small Steps
One of the things I've learned on my fitness journey is: you can't change everything all at once and hope to be successful. You can try, but usually all the changes are so overwhelming that you're left with frustration and disappointment when you can't meet all your goals. And when that happens you just give up. Instead, deciding to change one thing or committing to add one thing at a time to your routine until it is a habit yields far better and lasting results. Struggle with making poor food choices? Take it a meal at a time. Want to exercise more? Add one thing at a time with small goals that increase over time. Never worked out before? Just start moving more and then try a lot of different things until you find what you like to do.
Personally, I love looking back at where I've been and where I am now and seeing a huge difference. My own journey was more of an evolution than a radical change in my daily activities. Remember three years ago when I decided I liked running and then I had run a half marathon and three Ragnar relays within the span of two years? It all started with getting off the couch and walking until I could run and then systematically increasing how much running I did until I was capable of whatever I wanted. The same has been true of yoga. A year ago I "liked" yoga but didn't practice more than once or twice a year. Sure I loved it when I did it but it wasn't a weekly or even monthly habit. Now I practice four times a week - sometimes more - and am capable of so many things that I thought I would never be able to do like back bends, splits, arm balances and (almost) a headstand.
As much as I have loved my journey, until now I have not had the best of both worlds. I started my weekly yoga practice only a few months before I had to completely give up running because of my health issues. Yoga kept me sane and grounded (and active) while I couldn't run and in the process I realized I loved yoga more than I ever had loved running. Or so I thought. Now my health is pretty much back to normal and I have been talking about adding running back in purely for the cardiovascular benefits. After a year of not running, I've completely gotten out of the habit; not to mention lost all my cardio capacity I had developed. Plus I have two kids with dance schedules now so juggling WHEN to run has gotten harder. I let that hard part stop me for a few weeks and finally decided that I just needed to do it. After all, the longer I waited the harder it was going to be to get back to where I was before I had to quit.
Yesterday, I went for a 3-mile walk/run (which was way more walking than anything) like I used to do every Sunday. I took my trusty running companion with me - my beloved elkhound - and picked a familiar route I used to run regularly. It starts with a challenging uphill and finishes with a rewarding downhill. It was amazing to be outside in the sunshine in my favorite running temperature (between 36-40 degrees). But what I didn't expect was the emotional response when I rounded the bend to start the downhill. The vista of the Salt Lake valley and the Rocky Mountains rising in the distance hit me - almost physically. I have trained with that view of my mountains for every long-distance race I've ever run. I was home again whether I was running or walking. Most surprisingly, I hadn't realized just how much I missed it until I was back. Not going to lie, I cried most of the way down the hill - almost a mile - but they were truly tears of joy.
Whether I can fit more than a Sunday run into my fitness routine right now doesn't matter. Sundays are again run days. And once that has become a habit, I'll tackle finding another established time for an additional run. Will it be the gym, at work, during the evenings or early mornings? I don't know yet. I just know that small steps will eventually get me to my goal like every other time before. Maybe someday soon my personal label of "Writer, Runner, Overachiever" will be completely true once again.
Personally, I love looking back at where I've been and where I am now and seeing a huge difference. My own journey was more of an evolution than a radical change in my daily activities. Remember three years ago when I decided I liked running and then I had run a half marathon and three Ragnar relays within the span of two years? It all started with getting off the couch and walking until I could run and then systematically increasing how much running I did until I was capable of whatever I wanted. The same has been true of yoga. A year ago I "liked" yoga but didn't practice more than once or twice a year. Sure I loved it when I did it but it wasn't a weekly or even monthly habit. Now I practice four times a week - sometimes more - and am capable of so many things that I thought I would never be able to do like back bends, splits, arm balances and (almost) a headstand.
As much as I have loved my journey, until now I have not had the best of both worlds. I started my weekly yoga practice only a few months before I had to completely give up running because of my health issues. Yoga kept me sane and grounded (and active) while I couldn't run and in the process I realized I loved yoga more than I ever had loved running. Or so I thought. Now my health is pretty much back to normal and I have been talking about adding running back in purely for the cardiovascular benefits. After a year of not running, I've completely gotten out of the habit; not to mention lost all my cardio capacity I had developed. Plus I have two kids with dance schedules now so juggling WHEN to run has gotten harder. I let that hard part stop me for a few weeks and finally decided that I just needed to do it. After all, the longer I waited the harder it was going to be to get back to where I was before I had to quit.
Yesterday, I went for a 3-mile walk/run (which was way more walking than anything) like I used to do every Sunday. I took my trusty running companion with me - my beloved elkhound - and picked a familiar route I used to run regularly. It starts with a challenging uphill and finishes with a rewarding downhill. It was amazing to be outside in the sunshine in my favorite running temperature (between 36-40 degrees). But what I didn't expect was the emotional response when I rounded the bend to start the downhill. The vista of the Salt Lake valley and the Rocky Mountains rising in the distance hit me - almost physically. I have trained with that view of my mountains for every long-distance race I've ever run. I was home again whether I was running or walking. Most surprisingly, I hadn't realized just how much I missed it until I was back. Not going to lie, I cried most of the way down the hill - almost a mile - but they were truly tears of joy.
Whether I can fit more than a Sunday run into my fitness routine right now doesn't matter. Sundays are again run days. And once that has become a habit, I'll tackle finding another established time for an additional run. Will it be the gym, at work, during the evenings or early mornings? I don't know yet. I just know that small steps will eventually get me to my goal like every other time before. Maybe someday soon my personal label of "Writer, Runner, Overachiever" will be completely true once again.
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