Tag Archives: balance

Waiting for Baby

Silliness in Zion National Park

Lying in bed this morning, my husband reflected that it was five years ago this month that he asked me to marry him. We were in Bozeman, MT in the midst of a two week hiking and backpacking trip, and when his plans of proposing on top of a mountain fell through, he asked me in a cozy cafe over a plate of peach crisp. A year later, in front of family and friends, we vowed our commitment to one another and to a life filled with love and adventure.

Today we await the birth of our first child. It’s an interesting time, the end of a pregnancy. This time of waiting, not sure if the baby will make an appearance tonight or ten days from now. It’s a time of limbo, filled with excitement, nerves, and uncertainty. Time to think; hoping that our decision to bring a child into this world was the right one.

Wind River Range, PIngora Peak in the background.

As I wait, I’ve embarked on a long overdue photo project, sorting through all of our digital photos from the seven years we’ve been together and choosing which to print for photo albums. It’s been so much fun looking back at what we’ve shared. Photos highlighting our travels, hikes, climbs, friends, and time with family. We certainly have filled these years with love and adventure, just as we promised one another we would.

There are photos of us on top of mountains and on the sides of rock formations, hiking and camping in the mountains of the west, rain and shine. Photos of us taking shelter under rocks during rainstorms, sharing laughs and disappointment when things didn’t go as planned. Photos of us exploring the deserts of the southwest, and bundled up against below-zero temperatures on the ice of Lake Superior. Learning to cross-country ski, building snow caves in the backyard, embarking on our first trad leads, multi-pitch climbs, and getting ourselves to the top of the Grand Teton on a picture-perfect day. We’ve had some great experiences together, and the list of things we still want to do is ever-expanding.

Exploring the hillsides of Ireland.

Sunset over Boulder, CO, on top of the first Flatiron

Out on frozen Lake Superior, to see the ice caves. Temp = -15F.

On the summit of a drizzly Twin Sisters Peak in RMNP.

Parents and non-parents alike have loved telling us how much our lives are going to change once we have this baby. Some have even told us, in dramatic style, that our adventurous travels will come to an end completely. Like so many others, we wondered if we were willing to give up the lifestyle we enjoy so much, to give up those experiences that bring us closer to one another, each adventure that we share strengthening our bond.

Even after we made the decision to have a child, I have sometimes questioned if it was the right thing for us. Pregnancy unexpectedly curbed the season’s hiking and climbing ambitions, keeping me close to home while Seth went on trips without me. We spent the summer working on the house instead of embarking on our usual adventures, and I wondered if this is what my future would look like; longing to climb and hike and spend time in the mountains, but unable to. As my belly has expanded and I started to feel this little person take on life, my excitement has been tinged with discouragement. What if this was it? What if all of the people telling us to kiss our lives goodbye were right?

Nearing the summit of the Grand Teton

All smiles in the Black Hills after my first trad lead.

Biking through Yellowstone National Park

As I sort through these photos of our time together, of all of our adventures, big and small, I feel the doomsday words of others dissolve. Instead of imagining a life void of travel and adventure, I look at these images and imagine our child in them with us. A family of three instead of two, exploring this beautiful world we live in. Camping together, hiking together, traveling together, and eventually… maybe even climbing together. I imagine our child growing up with parents who continue to nourish their souls, both separately and together. I don’t grieve over the end of an era, but instead find myself looking forward with excitement to the challenge of a new one.

The pessimism of others is replaced with a sense of optimism about what can be. Our adventures may look different for a while, but they certainly won’t end. I’m so excited to share the things that we love with this person we’re bringing into the world, and for him or her to share the things that they love with us. Our world isn’t shrinking, as so many would have us believe. It’s growing.

Hiking outside of Big Sky, MT

I love conversations with parents who can’t stop gushing about how amazing an experience parenthood is. They’re overflowing with excitement for us and don’t even try to contain it. Yes, it’s hard, yes, it’s challenging, but it’s also the most amazing thing they’ve ever done.

Seth’s traditional summit proposal atop the Grand Teton.

So, as we wait to meet this little person who’s been rattling around inside of me for the last nine months, I feel a sense of optimism. Our photo albums are about to change, and it’s not for the worse. They’ll be filled with new adventures, new challenges, and a new face.

Five years ago, my husband and I sat in a cafe and decided to spend our lives together. We vowed to one another on our wedding day to fill those lives with love and adventure. In this time of limbo, as we wait for our baby to arrive, I am realizing that our adventures aren’t ending, they’re just changing. And, in a way, they’re just beginning. We are about to step into a great unknown, the biggest adventure we’ve ever undertaken.

Everything’s Changing.

“The only thing constant in life is change.” – François La Rochefoucauld

Everything is changing. All the time. And that includes us, as people.

An advantage of aging is that over time you get to see the parts of you that change, and the parts of you that stay the same. You get a pretty good handle on the “core” stuff; what defines you as a human being. And you begin to clearly see the stuff that changes over time; things that maybe felt like a “core” part of who you were at one time.

We’re all slowly changing, all the time. Like mountains, slowly heaving up out of the earth. Glaciers moving, ever so slowly. Even in those stretches where we feel that everything is good, that we’re settled, we’re imperceptibly changing. Evolving. Moving. Sometimes that change happens quickly and violently, spurred by a specific event. Most of the time, though, it’s slow, and we don’t realize it’s happening until it already has.

When I started this blog, I was fairly new to climbing. My life before climbing was mostly dedicated to music. I was a bassoonist, well on my way to making that my career. I had focused on bassoon since I was 12, and forced myself to march down that path far beyond when it became obvious that it was no longer the right one. It took me a long time to accept that a part of me that felt so fundamental could change. That inflexibility caused me a lot of strife.

Bassoon. Then a few years of floating…. trying to accept a move away from the only life I had ever known, looking for what was next. And suddenly, there was climbing. I fell in love with it. Hard. Climbing has taught me the importance of risk, has forced me to face fear, to deliberately move into mental discomfort and to meet myself in that place, face myself head on. I’ve learned a lot about myself through climbing, and I continue to do so.

A successful climb in Yosemite

A successful climb in Yosemite.

Even while climbing continues to be a big part of my life, I can feel my passion for it evolving and changing underneath me. Ever so slowly. At first I was climbing in the gym and at the crags, climbing hard, chasing grades, trying to be the best climber I could be. Looking back, I can see where the change started, with my first multi-pitch climbs, including a big, but pretty chill, climb out in Yosemite… I remember clearly the sound of the gear clinking as Lizzy led those pitches ahead of me. The quiet and peace of the rock, and the way it felt to climb that day. A year later, I climbed the Grand Teton. The Grand was an experience that I still haven’t been able to fully put into words. An experience that didn’t fully sink in for weeks afterwards. Since that climb, my drive to pursue hard sport routes has vanished. I’ve been dreaming of alpine climbing.

I have friends who want to climb the hard stuff; little crimpers on vertical rock. I’ve tried to get my mind back there so that I can join them, but just haven’t been able to. I’ve changed. Seth and I are heading out to Wyoming next month to tackle one or two routes in the Wind River Range, and then up to do a climb of the Grand Teton on our own. All alpine climbing, all trad. Just a few objectives for two weeks of time. A shift from where I was a few years ago.

And even while I plan and dream about this trip, I think that maybe I’d like to do some backpacking sometime, without the climbing gear. Go trek through the mountains for a few days, or a few weeks, just for the sake of being there. Maybe I’ll like it. Maybe there will be another shift towards just plain old backpacking. Or maybe there won’t. Maybe I’ll stick with alpine climbing and mountaineering for a while. Or maybe I’ll decide to sit home and knit instead. There’s no way to tell.

We’re all constantly changing. It’s the reason that friendships come and go. Why relationships come and go. Often, we form relationships based on common interests. Only the bonds that go deeper, that go to the core of who we are, survive our personal evolutions.

Change is ok. Unavoidable even. I’m still climbing, but I’m a different climber than I was four years ago. I’m still a musician, but in a different way than when I started. The stuff that’s stayed the same is deeper, and even those parts of me that feel central are slowly evolving, just at a slower pace.

We all owe it to ourselves to be flexible; to accept that we’re ever changing. We tend to identify ourselves by the things that we do, so when those interests change, we feel a need to hold on. It takes courage to accept ourselves as we morph and evolve.

This trip coming up reflects my changing goals and passions as a climber, as an adventurer, and as a person. I’m climbing to get somewhere and to be in a beautiful place, not just for the sake of climbing. It’ll be a big trip, and I have no doubt that I am going to learn a lot about myself. I can’t wait to get out to those mountains!

How do you view change? Have you noticed these kinds of evolutions within yourself? I would love to hear your thoughts.

Back to it.

Ok, guys and gals, I have a confession.

KettlebellI took three months off of kettlebells. There, I said it. Oh, and before that, I hadn’t been super consistent… for a while. You see, my instructor left the gym I was going to, and then there were the holidays, and then I was able to train with him again which was awesome, but it wasn’t as convenient of a location, then I went on a climbing trip, and then I had this shoulder thing…

I rationalized it (see above). And it actually seemed ok for a while. In fact, I enjoyed the time it freed up for me… It’s good to take a break sometimes (that’s actually true). However, I took that break and I RAN with it. I wasn’t training, I wasn’t climbing as much, and my responsible egg and banana breakfast was replaced with cinnamon buns… you get the picture.

There was definitely a feeling of rebalancing, figuring out my priorities. I often feel like I’m trying to cram too many things into the little free time that I have. And there are so many things that I want to do (including having some unscheduled free time)! But, I was feeling the lack of exercise and excessive pastry consumption. A few extra pounds appeared; I wasn’t feeling as strong or confident in my movement. I felt different, and I didn’t like it.

I kept telling myself I’d just train at home. I have kettlebells here and know the basic concepts of how to put a workout together. But, it turns out that I’m not good at training on my own. As in, I don’t really do it. My shoulder’s happy again, I’ve run out of excuses, so I’ve returned to Ron’s kettlebell classes (sidenote: Ron’s awesome).

The problem with taking time off of any physical activity is that it hurts when you start up again. That’s the phase I’m in right now. Also, I know what I used to be able to do, so I try to jump right back in at that level. And then I’m crazy sore for the next three days. Ouch.

It’s my second week back now, and this morning I felt like I was finally making progress again. It felt good. I love the feeling of swinging a bell. It’s powerful, and it makes me feel like a badass. Who doesn’t like feeling like a badass?

I’m glad to be training again, glad to have that back at the top of my priority list. I’ll be even happier when my body gets used to it again. That should be just about the time I’m heading out west for some mountain climbing. Yay.

Do you find that it’s harder to go back to your exercise routine after some time off? What keeps you motivated?

Seeking Balance

I haven’t climbed in two weeks. Honestly, I haven’t climbed much since my Red Rocks trip. Partly due to some nagging injuries, partly because gym climbing seemed so bland in comparison to where I had just come from, and partly because… I was just worn out.

Climbing: just one of my happy places.

Climbing: just one of my happy places.

It’s been a busy winter, with *lots* of climbing. Lots of climbing, lots of exercise, lots of fun things with my awesome friends, much of which was centered around… climbing. On nights I wasn’t climbing I was swinging kettlebells or had something else on my calendar.

It’s been a fun year. But I missed my music. And my knitting. And all of the other things I used to do before I became obsessed with climbing. Suddenly, I missed those things a LOT.

Last week I didn’t climb at all. In fact, most nights I just stayed home. I played my banjo quite a bit. I worked on the sweater I’ve been knitting (it has cabled owls on it and has the potential to either be super cool or super uncool). I caught up on emails. Spent time with my husband, just the two of us. And generally just took it down a few notches.

I realized that I’ve been focusing so much on work, climbing, kettlebells, climbing, travel, climbing, etc… that I’ve lost touch with all of the *other* things that I love to do.

One-Dimensional.

I’ve been feeling one-dimensional. On Twitter and on this blog I focus on climbing and adventure, with the occasional other thing thrown in the mix for variety. Mostly, though, I’m known as Eliz the climber, Eliz the adventurer, and sometimes Eliz the kettlebeller. As time has gone on, I’ve focused mostly on those things in my offline life as well.

I love climbing and adventuring, don’t get me wrong. They are an important part of my life. But, if this blog and my twitter account truly represented my interests, you’d see the full, 3D version:

My new album cover

My new album cover (not really)

Eliz the climber. Eliz the adventurer. Also… Eliz the musician. Eliz the audio engineer. Eliz the radio producer. Eliz the vegetable gardener, the knitter, the introvert. Eliz the not-very-good juggler. Eliz who loves the mountains, and loves Minneapolis even though it’s far away from the mountains. Eliz who draws colorful, chalked sidewalk art with the neighbor kids. Eliz the homebody, who really really likes a quiet night or three at home with nobody else around. Etcetera.

The past year or so, I’ve watched myself become more and more one-dimensional in my day-to-day life, just like my social media persona. My non-work time has become all about climbing, adventures, and kettlebells, and I’ve filled it so much with those things that there’s no room for anything else. It makes me not very fun at parties. Time to re-diversify.

It’s probably good timing, this pull I’m feeling to regain some sort of balance. I mentioned before that I’m dealing with some nagging injuries, which, if I’m smart, pulls me out of climbing and kettlebells for at least a few weeks while I rehab. I see quite a bit of banjo playing in my near future. More bike riding and concerts, more cooking and gardening and knitting. And, of course, there are always tiny adventures to be had.

Right now I’m off to fly this kite that’s lying next to me. Because I’m not heading to a kettlebells class or the climbing gym, and I suddenly have the time.

 

After the Whole 30

A little over a year ago, Seth, myself, and a few friends banded together for the Whole 30 food challenge. What is the Whole 30? In a nutshell, it’s 30 days of eating whole, unprocessed food. Lots of veggies, fruit, nuts, protein, etc, without the sugar, grains, and dairy. It’s 30 days of getting your body functioning well so that you really know how the things you eat affect you. We had a good experience with it, and learned quite a bit (here’s my initial report).

So that was more than a year ago. Have we kept it up? The answer: kind of.

whole30 food 2Here’s how it went. I got done with my 30 days of eating whole, unprocessed, delicious food. Tons of veggies, protein, fruit, nuts, and good fats like avocado and coconut milk. For that 30 days I cut out sugar, alcohol, dairy, and grains. I felt pretty good. Once the 30 days were over, I started eating the stuff I hadn’t been allowed to eat. I tried to add one thing at a time, but after 3 or 4 days I went into binge mode and just started eating everything in sight. And that’s when I realized how good I had really felt at the end of my Whole 30.

Now I was bloated. I was waking up with headaches and sinus pain again. The way that I had felt all the time *before* doing the Whole 30. I just felt bad.

I had a few weeks of that, and then I just wanted to feel good again. So I swung back the other way. Not because I was doing another challenge, but because I wanted to feel great again. Now it’s been over a year, and I go through cycles. At home, we very much stick to that style of eating. Our meals are often a big pile of veggies, some protein, some healthy fats, and a bit of fruit. They are delicious. If we’re having a good week of cooking at home, those leftovers go to work with me, and then I’m eating that way even *more* of the time.

It’s the times when we’re busy, don’t have time to get groceries or cook ahead when we don’t consistently eat as well. I’d say I make good decisions only about half the time when I’m eating out. Last week I passed on a sandwich and ordered a salad with walnuts and chicken on it instead. A few days later I ordered a few mini burgers and a whole lot of fries. Some weeks I’m really good about having a hard-boiled egg and a banana for breakfast. Other times I find myself with a pastry in front of me.

So, sometimes I eat well, and sometimes I don’t. And that’s ok! Seriously. Because I know now the effect that my food decisions have on how I feel, and how my body functions. That’s the biggest thing I got out of this whole experiment. I make those decisions consciously now. Keeping grains and sugar out of my diet makes me feel my best. I know that now. But, sometimes I eat a delicious cupcake. I know when I eat that cupcake that I’m going to feel a bit hazy in 20 minutes, a bit bloaty, and then I’ll crave more sugar later. The thing about it is, I know that now. And I make that decision consciously.

Here’s something: on Day 28 of my Whole 30, I did 6 pull-ups in a row, from a dead hang. The most I had ever done. I felt strong. A week later, after introducing all sorts of food groups back into my diet, my max dropped to two. Within a week. True story.

I don’t believe that there’s *one* way to eat for everyone, or *one* way to exercise. Everyone is different, and different things work for different people. The important thing is knowing how food affects you, and that’s what I’ve taken away from the Whole 30.

So, you’re still doing the climbing thing?

This is a question that’s come up a few times recently. And it always takes me back a little. “Oh, so you’re still doing the climbing thing?”

I started climbing 5 years ago. I wandered into a climbing gym to get a gift certificate for someone else, but as soon as I saw those walls I knew I had to come back and climb for myself. And I did. The next week I went back on my own and climbed the auto-belays until I got hooked up with a group of folks to climb with. In the five years I’ve been climbing, I’ve spent a lot of time in the gym, but I’ve moved as much of my climbing outdoors as possible, climbing in Minnesota, South Dakota, Wyoming, California, Nevada, and Colorado. I’ve done big multi-pitch climbs, climbed a mountain, and have ventured into the world of trad leading. I’m still doing the climbing thing. And I have no intentions of stopping any time soon.

This question makes me think, though. What *is* this climbing thing that I’m doing? Why do I love it so much? And why don’t I share that more with non-climbers?

Nearing the summit of the Grand Teton

Nearing the summit of the Grand Teton

In my calendar, climbing takes up one to two nights a week at the gym. When the weather’s right, I’ll be out a few times a month on the rocks nearby (or ice in the winter). And then there are usually a few big trips a year out to places with bigger and better rocks.

For me, climbing is so much more than a fun activity. It also makes me a better person. That probably sounds a bit cheesy, but there it is. Dealing with the risks and the fear involved in climbing makes most of the stuff in my daily life seem pretty small and manageable. It puts things in perspective. A challenging lead climb in the gym makes the rest of my week feel calmer. When I’m doing the bigger stuff, a nice multi-pitch climb perhaps, a lot of the unimportant stuff melts away. My goals are to stay alive, to stay as safe as possible, and to hopefully have a successful climb. That’s it. No room for worrying about anything else.

That simplicity bleeds into the rest of my life. I find myself more and more wanting to keep things simple in all aspects of my life. When climbing, simple is better. A simple anchor system is easy to check. Simplicity is often the most efficient, and efficiency is key when moving up big rocks. My life works better that way, too. The simpler the better. I want to spend time with the people that I love. I want to fill my life with things that I enjoy. I want to do good work and contribute to the world in a positive way. Anything that gets in the way of those things just complicates everything.

Looking for the next move

Out at Taylors Falls, MN

So, yes, climbing is a big part of my life. And it’s about more than just the climbing. But, I’m not very good at sharing that with my friends and family who don’t climb. I know that to some it seems really scary. “That’s crazy” is a response that I’ve gotten very used to hearing. I tell my mother that I’m going on trips, but I don’t give her the details. I know that it makes her worry, and I don’t want to do that to her.

The risks that we take climbing are hard to explain to non-climbers. In a society where risks are seen as something to be avoided, I’m sure it’s baffling to see people who deliberately choose to do something that’s seen as risky. Yes, climbing is statistically pretty safe, but the consequences of things going wrong are big. It’s a calculated risk, and it’s one that I’ve decided is worth it. I’d rather take that calculated risk than to sit in my home feeling afraid of the world. I’ve been there before, afraid of the world, and it was no fun. Climbing is a big reason that I’m not there anymore.

Calculated risk. That’s where I think we, as climbers, can connect with others about what we do. There’s a saying that goes “do something that scares you every day.” That scary thing is different for each person, but it exists for everyone, and I think that’s where we can find some common ground. What is that thing for them? Why do they do it, or maybe dream about doing it?

I’m interested in hearing how you connect with non-climbers about your climbing. Is it important to you that your friends and loved ones understand what climbing is to you? Or do you generally avoid talking about it? If you share, where do you find common ground?

There He Goes Again…

I was at the beginning of a pretty normal day at work when this photo arrived on my phone.

Seth in Smith Rock, Oregon

That’s my husband, Seth, on a climbing trip in Oregon with one of his buddies.

His previous trip was in July, to the Wind River Range in Wyoming. Him and two friends made a whirlwind trip to the Cirque of the Towers and climbed Wolf’s Ridge. That was a big trip, with some big stories. But I wasn’t there.

After my first trad lead

After my first trad lead

The last climbing trip we took together was in May, over Memorial Day weekend. We headed out to the Black Hills in South Dakota and together we ticked off our first trad leads. I was super excited to do more, as was he. He’s had the time to take more trips since. I just haven’t been able to get away.

It never occurred to me that he could eventually be seeking out climbing trips on his own. Seth initially began climbing because I climbed. It was something I had fallen in love with. When we met, I was just getting my first multi-pitch climbs under my belt, doing some sport leading, and starting to work on my trad skills knowing that’s what I wanted to be doing.

Now, Seth is not only climbing, he’s surpassed me in a lot of ways. And my own reaction, although I’m not proud of it, is interesting to observe. When he was out in Smith Rock, I found myself grappling with my own feelings of jealousy, resentment, and plain old selfishness. Since our first trad leads in May, Seth has gone on to lead close to 10 more pitches of trad. I’ve led none.

I hear how that sounds. Even reading it back, I hear a whiny little brat stomping her feet and saying “but why don’t *I* get to go?” I hate that I even *had* that reaction, but I did.

Just to be clear, I love my job. It’s been pretty hard to get away, but I really enjoy my work. My colleagues are awesome as well. Two of them even climb with me. And it’s my choice to be there, doing the work that I’m doing, and sometimes sacrificing trips to do so. Despite knowing that, it was hard to watch Seth doing the things that *I* want to be doing more of, and finding myself looking in from the outside.

Those feelings of jealousy and resentment are no good in a marriage, so we had to work through them pretty quickly. The solution seems to be to focus on my own goals, keep working on getting out there, even if it’s close to home, and, of course, to look past myself and realize that I’m super excited for Seth. I am! He’s out there having fun and doing things he loves. And yeah, he’s gotten out more than me this summer, but I have big plans for next season. We’ll get to do lots of climbing together, I have no doubt.

Seth has fallen in love with trad climbing, and it’s really fun to see that. Once I catch up, we’re going to make a pretty great team, and be able to do even more awesome stuff together. Maybe we’ll be like the Smileys someday. A competent trad climbing partner is a *very* good thing to have.

I’m curious to hear your comments. How do you balance work and play? Have you ever struggled with jealousy of a friend or partner’s adventures?

DO ALL THE THINGS!! Finding Balance in Life’s Adventures.

Sometimes, after sifting through my social media feeds, I have this feeling that I should be doing crazy awesome stuff ALL THE TIME!!! Does that ever happen to you?

I mean, everyone else is, right? That person is traveling across the world, this person’s going on a sweet climbing trip, over there is someone who just quit their job and bought a van in which to go galavanting around the country. Eventually, in my brain, all of those separate people doing their individual awesome things start to meld together into one giant Twitter Hive Person; an aggregate of everyone I follow. And that person is AWESOME. The Twitter Hive Person is traveling, adventuring, helping people, making delicious, healthy food, scaling mountains, exercising religiously, pressing 24kg kettlebells while standing on one leg, and having fun dinner parties every single night.

I’m not a crazy adventurous *do cool stuff all the time* person. But, sometimes I feel like I *should* be. Maybe I’m too busy comparing myself to the Twitter Hive Person. Maybe I don’t have quite the right balance of normal vs. adventure worked out in my own day-to-day. But, whatever the reason, I sometimes hear a little voice in my head that says “you should be doing more awesome stuff all the time.” And then I feel bad.

I pretty much didn’t do anything extraordinarily cool or adventurous all winter. December was a sad and heavy month. I spent a lot of time with family, and I barely got outside other than to walk to and from the bus stop. January and February weren’t much different. After a few months of laying low, the pendulum is now swinging the other way. This week, Minneapolis got 9″ of fresh, lovely snow added to our snowpack. After months of just wanting to sit on the couch and knit, I suddenly had the urge for a little adventure. So, my husband and I got out the cross-country skis and headlamps and did some night skiing. We liked it so much that we went out the following evening as well.

One of my favorite little books, “The Tao of Pooh,” speaks about the importance of recognizing one’s true nature. For example, birds fly really well, but most aren’t that great at swimming or jumping. They’re just not built that way. I like going on big trips and climbing mountains, and I also like long stretches of time firmly ensconced in a routine at home. Recognizing and accepting my own nature, and not thinking I *should* be some other way than how I am, removes an incredible amount of pressure. And with all of that energy not going into trying to be someone I’m not, I have a lot more to put into who I actually am.

So, it’s OK to not be doing crazy awesome things all the time. In fact, it’s probably good. It is for me, at least. If you find yourself comparing yourself to an impossible-to-keep-up-with Twitter Hive Person, take a deep breath, step back, and don’t judge yourself. Take away inspiration from what others are doing, and then integrate that into your life in a way that honors your own true nature.

 

Derailed: Getting Back On Track

They’re getting along well.

It’s been an eventful few weeks here. My normal schedule has taken a backseat to more important things that needed our attention. Family comes first. We’ve been adjusting to some changes, one of which resulted in a new kitty cat in the house. His name is Teko, and he likes to explore. Yesterday we found him down one of our air vents. He’s fine.

I’ve managed to get out and climb a bit, but my kettlebells training has been virtually non-existent. The work I had been doing to pre-plan meals and eat well has also gone out the window. I know that the longer I don’t train and eat poorly, the more those things become habitual. Continue reading

Simplify

I’ve been on a mission to simplify my life.

Making room for the important things

It started a few years ago with my time. I was busy. Stressed. Anxious. Then, one day, I realized that the way I spend my time is my choosing. So, I made some changes and simplified my schedule. Cleared out to the essentials. Suddenly, I had a lot of open time, and that time that had previously been filled with obligations was filled, instead, by the things that I enjoyed. I had time to take walks. See my friends. Relax. Smile. Continue reading