This Does Not Bode Well...
/Lucy is sitting just to the side of the heat register in the kitchen floor, staring intently into its black depths.
Nothing good can come of this.
Lucy is sitting just to the side of the heat register in the kitchen floor, staring intently into its black depths.
Nothing good can come of this.
www.freefoto.comLooking at my day timer, it is apparent that I am losing the scheduling battle. Today I flipped to March and was all but blinded by the numerous appointments I've written down and highlighted in hot pink.Who the heck scheduled all this stuff when I wasn't looking???
Some appointments are practical in nature - a hair cut or visit to the allergist. Some are work related - speaking at a writers' workshop or attending a Toastmasters meeting. Some are monthly obligations - my radio show, board meetings. Some are weekly exercise dates - hill runs on Mondays and trail runs on Thursdays, and yoga 2-3x/week. Still others are social in nature - dinner and a play with friends, a jewelry party, brunch with friends we've not seen in some time. And then there are the random events - our classes on Egypt, sub-committee meeting with the Animal Protection Society, speaking to middle-graders about proper pet care, a meeting with a local writer who wants advice on how to submit to magazines, a mastermind marketing meeting.
But it boils down to rarely if ever having a free day where I just sit down and work, focused and non-stop. I realize few people have the type of job where they work uninterrupted but I'd make the argument those type of days are rather vital in the life of a writer.
The fact is, we all lead busy lives. And that's not going to change. I try to look at it as the things I'm "signed up" to do are there because they're important to me. Staying home 24/7 doesn't broaden my understanding of the world. The more I'm out in the world, the more I have to write about.
But I'm considering setting aside at least one day a week as a "non-schedule" day. Just crossing it off the calendar so I know that day there is no exercise, no meetings, no phone calls, no doctor appointments, no drive time. I'll treat it as an "out-of-office" day and just disappear as if I'm at an all-day conference and can't be reached.
The issue is figuring out what that one day should be. Fridays are actually looking promising, although I prefer to be available to clients that day in case we need to touch base before the weekend. Wednesdays are an option... if I can juggle a few things around.
How do you all manage your schedules--doctor prescribed medication not included?
Dena
Click image to go to the siteIf you're ever in need of humor for a speech or presentation, you simply MUST contact FunnierSpeeches.com. I met co-founder Ron Culberson years ago at an Erma Bombeck humor writers contest. We e-mailed a bit then lost touch. About three years ago I was an instructor at a National Speakers Association weekend retreat and ran into Ron, a member (with their highest designation of CSP) attending the retreat. We knew we knew each other but couldn't place how. It took us almost 30 minutes to come up with it. But since then, we've stayed in close touch, editing one another's work.
Thank God I got in on the ground floor. Ron is heading for the big time with his speech writing but has been kind enough to grandfather me in. Never turn away a funny writer willing to read and comment on your work! Some of the funnier lines in my articles (I'll never tell which ones--NEVER!) were written by Ron. I like to think I've helped him a time or two as well, but as I'm having him critique my latest book manuscript, he's definitely putting in more hours than me.
Just FYI, there is a fascinating sub-culture of writers helping writers, all done behind-the-scenes. I know I've got my "set" group of 6-8 people I can turn to for help, and they in turn can rely on me. For all it's competitiveness, I've found the writing sphere filled more often than not with talented, generous individuals willing to share their gifts.
Ron is at the top of the list. Funny and nice. What are the chances there would be two of us in the world?
What would you do with the money if you won the lotto? This was the question posed by someone on Saturday in our group of runners. We were munching on bagels and sipping hot coffee after a particularly chilly run. I don't play the lotto but the question still intrigued me. What would I do?
It took me a few minutes to come up with an answer. "Build the animal shelter in Rockingham County," is the first thing that came to mind. And build it right - full spay/neuter clinic, huge dog runs, cat room with toys, window, sun and climbing spaces. Free clinic, meet and greet room for potential adoptees to bond with pets... I could go on.
After that I came up with pay for college for all nieces and nephews, hire a personal trainer (every runner in the group came up with that one), and do a few upgrades to the house. But I was pleased at how I struggled to find an answer. There's isn't much I would actually change in my life. I wouldn't move, wouldn't stop writing, wouldn't suddenly abandon this life for a new one. That tells me I'm on track with where I need to be.
As we discussed it, everyone said that while they might leave their current job, they wouldn't want to sit around and do nothing. Instead, they would look for work or volunteer positions that fulfilled them - work that made them feel they were making a difference.
This confirms my belief that no one really wants a free ride in life. We all want to feel useful and productive. Laying in bed for 18 hours a day isn't anyone's dream. Meaningful work, interactions with people, and the opportunity to explore and engage in whatever tasks or activities make us happy--that's what people want in life.
My wish is that we all don't have to wait for the lotto to go after it. What is your "dream life?" What one thing can you do today to bring you closer to living it? If you feel like sharing your answers, I'd love to read them.
Dena
Author. Humorist. Fitness fanatic. Control freak. Mentor. Klutz. All-around decent human being.
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I want a cat.
There, I’ve said it. Proclaimed my intent to the Universe. Although I’m only willing to accept moderate blame when events transpire to actually bring a cat into my life.
I have no business getting a cat. A few strong reasons off the top of my head include:
And yet.
When I began sharing the news that I had taken a new job near Atlanta and was moving . . . spreading my wings. . . opening myself to new horizons. . . without fail the first comment from almost everyone was, “OMG. You know about the traffic there, right?”
Yes, I am aware of the traffic. Thank you for your loving concern and support.
So how bad is it really? Having lived here now for three months, I can tell you that the 12-mile drive to my office from home can take anywhere between. . .
One of the hardest decisions in moving to Atlanta was knowing I would be leaving behind my 25-year network of friends. These are friends that saw me through job changes (insurance adjuster, librarian, author, marketing maven), life changes (divorce, moves, dating), as well as were there for everything from my first published book to my first marathon to holding my hand when my cat died. A lot of years, a lot tears, much more laughter, and oodles and oodles of love.
In other words—not something easily replaced.
Of course, I’m not “leaving behind” friends but since the five-hour drive between Atlanta and Greensboro isn’t convenient for a quick movie or fro-yo meet-up, the burden is on me to make new friends.
The obvious place to make friends, for me, is the gym. I joined a big-ass Lifetime Fitness...
As most of you know, after 20+ years in NC, I’ve recently relocated to Georgia, about an hour outside of Atlanta. More updates on that later. Right now, I want to share with you the saga of the license plate. It’s a story that more or less sums up my life. What takes other people twenty minutes, takes me 9 weeks, 8 phone calls, 4 DMV visits and a two-week plan to evade the law.
It all started the week I moved to Georgia. I was checking things off my list right and left (pictures hung in new home - check. Food in fridge – check. Wall art for half-bath – check, check, check) and in an effort to be pro-active, toddled off to the DMV to get my GA driver’s license. I showed up prepared for anything – NC driver’s license, passport, pay stub, and invoices from gas, electric and trash removal verifying my new address. I approached the teller window.
Teller: “Social security card.”
Me: “I don’t have that, but here’s my passport.”
Teller: “I can’t issue you a license without a social security card.”
I get a lot of questions about the best ways to train. Which, considering I spent the earlier part of this year on crutches, unable to run for four months due to an overuse injury that could have been avoided, I find somewhat amusing. Then there’s the immediate back-pedalling that takes place, usually in the form of, “But I don’t want to run, or get up at 4 am, or do anything that’s hard.”
Gotcha. I can work with that.
Below are five training tips I try to follow. I say try because let’s be honest—we’re all human and some days will be better than others. But these are the big picture items that have kept me pushing for the last ten years, and they are things anyone can adopt into their lifestyle.
1. Pick Something You Love
I can’t count the number of times people say to me, “Ugh, I know I need to run but I hate it.” Um… why exactly do you need to run? I hate Pure Barre and even though my butt never looked better during the month I took classes, I’m not going back.
When I first signed up for this half Ironman, I knew my swim would be slow and my ride would be average, so the plan was to make-up some time on the run. The Universe had other plans though, and handed me the stress fracture in my hip. It was literally only days before the race when my chiropractor agreed that I could try a walk/run of the course, but only if I swore a blood oath that if it hurt, I would stop. And, in a cruel twist of fate, advised that my best strategy would be to run the uphills and walk the down. That goes against everything I hold dear in life, but okay. I figured I would run a mile/walk a mile throughout the race for as long as I could.
My strategy worked perfectly… for the first quarter mile.
(ICYMI: Part I: THE SWIM)
Let’s call it like it is. I crushed the ride on this race. 18.71 average speed. My normal pace with a group where I’m drafting is closer to 17.5, so I had aspirations of maybe holding a 17 mph average. Crushed. It.
What helped me is my Garmin died before the ride even started, so I had no idea for the entire 56 miles what my pace was. I just rode according to how I felt. The first 3-5 miles were shaky (I kept repeating, “You’re out of the water. You’re alive.”), but then we turned right onto the highway, I settled into my arrow bars and literally said out loud, “Let’s make some time.”
Fun fact: They mark your age in sharpie on your left calf in an Ironman race. Not sure why, but...
On Sunday, June 4, I completed my first (because there will be more) Half Ironman. 1.2 mile swim. 56 mile bike ride. 13.1 mile run.
Being my first IM, there’s a lot to process, especially as I didn’t think I’d be able to complete the race due to my hip injury. I am thrilled beyond all words that I finished and probably most proud of the fact that I have (as of yet) to get the IM tattoo splattered across, you know, my face.
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