Tag Archives: goals

The 11th Month

2 Nov

With 2014 about 60 calendar boxes away, two self-imposed goals that I was supposed to conquer in 2013 are taunting me from the December 31 box.

I was supposed to run 700 miles this year. Being that I’m only at 415, that is most definitely not going to happen. Maybe I’ll reach 500? Where in the world did I pull 700 from?

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I was supposed to write the book that’s been in my head since spring 2012. I told myself it would be my baby this year since I very much felt the desire to have another child but, at the same time, am wonderfully content and thankful with the two I’m momma to now. Well, I still haven’t gotten any action on that “baby” so I need to get busy. I even bought books that tell me how to get started. The dog ate one of them …

So, I’m setting a new goal. One just for this 11th month. I’m gonna blog. Seems like something I should be able to accomplish. We’ll see!

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Propelled

12 May

Acting on inspiration and motivation isn’t always easy. Sometimes, the moments slap you in the face and wake you up from a funk or rut. Sometimes, you fight them off and resist giving in to their magic. I would say I lived in the world of resistance. I just didn’t feel like being inspired or motivated and I didn’t have the confidence to really try to act on it.

Then, after months of watching others who felt like they couldn’t do it succeed, I thought to myself, “What the hay? Might as well give it a go. Worst that could happen is I look ridiculous or injure myself. If I don’t like it, I’ll just stop and try something else.”

I knew I would be bummed if I gave up so I set my expectations low. So low, that I didn’t make it known that I was attempting to follow the inspiration. So low, that I didn’t invest in myself or set high goals.

I put on my very old trail sneakers and well-worn yoga pants and stepped on the treadmill.

I started there, nervous to be seen on my neighborhood streets. I would walk and run and walk and run. I would try to run for an entire song. Rock! I did it. The next time, I would try to run for two entire songs. Oh yeah! Ten minutes straight? Man, that felt so good.

The treadmills at my gym automatically stopped at 45 minutes so I had a small goal to beat that time. Run/walk a 5k before it boots me off. I got so close one day. So close. I felt proud of my attempt but still frustrated. I thought maybe I should step out of my comfort zone a little more and try running through my neighborhood.

It was wonderful. I loved it. I felt faster and less focused on my running. It made the distance and time fly. (To me.) I started to understand why my husband and my good friends loved running. Inever thought I would love running – and there are times when I really hate it, but I keep going. Propelled by my determination to succeed and feel healthy.

For true runners, this is like breathing for them. I am not a true runner in the sense of speed and distance. I do now feel like a true runner in the sense of my heart is in it. It makes me feel empowered. I am accomplishing something I never thought I could. (I even bought real running shoes and running clothes!)

I am writing about this because I understand when someone says, “I am not a runner.” I was there. I still feel like that sometimes. But now, I’m on a mission to prove myself wrong. I may not be as fast as many people or have incredible form or able to run as far, but I run my race and I’m getting stronger in body and soul.

It’s moving me forward.

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My farthest run so far.

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Big Plans

18 Feb

I’ve reached a point where I’m finding myself comparing what I’ve accomplished in my life to what others have accomplished. It’s not a jealousy or an “I wish I did that” kind of thing. It’s more a – there’s so much I still want to do – thing. I’m also not saying I’m not proud or happy with all that I have attempted, failed at, conquered, laughed at, attempted again – I just have a small list of wants and it goes a little something like this:

  • I want to learn Italian. Andrew does too. I have one rule after we learn it though – we are never – never – allowed to argue in Italian. Man, I remember my Grandma and Grandpa’s Italian-only arguments. I never knew what they were saying but their complicated-sounding words were always laced with such fire – such anger. It scared me beyond belief. I want this language to only be used to communicate sweet nothings or compliments on a meal or excitement over sports or other such happiness.
  • Once we’re comfortable with our Italian and the kiddos are older, a trip to Italy will happen. We will visit all the areas our grandparents came from and all the romantic places I’ve read about in books or caught glimpses of in movies.
  • There will be a book. I can’t promise it will be an awesome book – or even a good book – but it will be written by me. Even if I have to pay to have it published, one of the many ideas I’ve started will eventually become something I can hold in my hands and say, “I wrote this book. Cool.”
  • We will take the kids to Disney World where they will lose their minds in Princess, Spiderman, Peter Pan and other animated character craziness.
  • I will sing Karaoke. In front of people. At least once.
  • I will learn how to dance a sexy dance like Salsa or Tango and I will not feel like a total doof and laugh the entire time. I will feel incredibly sexy, womanly and confident.
  • Andrew and I will live to our 50th wedding anniversary – plus some. I know, I know. I really can’t control this one. It could happen though … it could.

I know I have more wants but I think this is a good place to start. Will I be happy if none of these ever happen? Sure. (Well, except for the last one that is.) After all, these are all wants – not needs. A girl can dream, right?
 

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