Odds and evens

While my mind loves the idea of a nice even year, my life seems to like the odd years best. I was born in an odd year, graduated from high school and college in odd years, started (and left) all my jobs in odd years, got married in an odd year, and had the worst year of my life in an even year.

So in light of another even year ahead, I’m keeping my expectations — and aspirations — rather simple I think.

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I don’t know what will be harder — getting rid of too many things or too many thoughts. Losing weight or gaining perspective. Minimizing the negative or maximizing the positive. So much comes down to mind over matter. What do I mind? What matters? I mostly know this already, but I need to get better at reminding myself — every day.

So far so good. One day down, 364 to go. (Another even number. Sigh.)

It is never to late to be who you might have been.
~ George Eliot

I did it.

Just a little while ago, on this nondescript, cloudy Monday, I did something I never thought I could do or would do…ever. I jogged (very slowly) the equivalent of a 5K (3.1 miles). And in fact, I kept thinking “I better go a little more” just so there would be no question about the distance because I only measure it using my pedometer (a well-rated one, but still), and I ended up running 3.67 miles in 45.04 minutes. (That’s a blistering 12.27-minute pace, for those of you keeping score. I routinely walk 14-minute miles, so yeah, slow.)

Really, I can’t express how thrilled I am. As I noted here before, I’ve never been a runner, never been able to build up the endurance, find the rhythm, go the distance…whatever you want to call it. It was 2 years ago that I ran my first mile in my life. I’m still excited (and it’s still hard) when I occasionally run a full mile when I’m out on my regular “wogs.” My goal when I set out tonight was that since I hadn’t done my wog since last Wednesday, and presumably had fresh legs, maybe I could jog 2 miles and then call it a night, instead of my usual walk-jog combo of 3, 4, or (rarely) even 5 miles. So I just started jogging, and the mojo was right — at last. Of course I avoided the hills and stuck to the flat part of my route — that goes without saying. But dammit, I’m still thrilled. I accomplished something that’s, for non-runner, non-sports-competitive me (not counting badminton, jarts, and ping pong), a really big deal.

Did I mention I’m thrilled?

I considered posting this on Facebook, but it seemed too braggy and that no one would really understand where I’m coming from with this. All I really want to do is save this moment somewhere so I can remember it (and remember where I put it). And since almost no one reads this blog but a few friends — voilà — the perfect place. A mostly secret little accomplishment for me to savor and feel good about. At long last.

I know this is small potatoes for so many people. But for me it’s a big ol’ Idaho. And considering I am just a few days away from a big scary “0” birthday, you can add butter and sour cream to that spud. And what the heck, throw on some bacon bits and cheddar, too.

Sweat is the cologne of accomplishment.
~ Heywood Hale Broun

And sweet is the smell of that sweat! (Well, not really, but you get the idea.)
~ Writing by Ear

Dear God,

Thank you for this beautiful summer-fall day, On a Friday. When no one needs anything (that I can’t put off until Monday), and the black-eyed susans are still blooming.

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Thank you for the Knock Out® Rose that finally decided to be a knock-out. (And bless dear Sondra who gave it to us, who’s now looking down on it with you.)

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Thank you for reblooming orchids. And, you know, for actually making this one rebloom.

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Ummmm, thank you for the groundhog that ate through our shed floor so we pretty much HAVE to do something about it? (Better yet, thank you for helping us get a new shed floor, which we really need.)

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(On a related note, thank you for helping us cram everything that was in the shed into the garage.)

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Thank you for the Pirates being in first place. (I know, can you believe it?)

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Thank you for letting us get 3 offers on the house just a day after we listed it. And thanks especially for my sister, who worked like a dog for weeks and weeks to get it ready to list.

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(And thank you for helping me not to cry every time I think about the house being sold.)

Thank you for Emily. And poems. And chalkboard paint.

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Thank you for art. And artistic friends. And sunrooms.

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Thank you for today. And tomorrow. And the next day. And even the day after that (even though it will be Monday).

Amen.

All that we behold is full of blessings.
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson

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