Looking over my shoulder at 2023

It's not surprising to me that my main focuses were fitness, faith, and family. Those are super important to me, and anyone can look at how I spent my days and see the evidence for that. One of the lessons I went through with my students was graphing how their time was spent during the week, and then seeing if their actions truly supported what they said they valued. It was a lesson for me too.

Excerpts from the end of year questionnaire:

10. What was your biggest personal change from January to December of this past year? Trying  to find a way to cross train. I think, because of macros dieting and the book Thinner, Leaner, Stronger, I found a good system to nourish my body (so much more energy), lose weight, and increase strength and fitness. This was a big year in trial and error--and a lot of exhaustion. 

 17. What was your single biggest time waster in your life this past year?  Making excuses. Not sticking to the plan. Letting myself off the hook because it was hot, I was tired, the air quality sucked. Those things did happen/were true, but how could I have shown up better? Diet changes really helped so much. I was trying to do a lot more in the same amount of time, and I wasn’t fueled properly. I was so exhausted. Now I’m doing even more, but I have great energy and a way better attitude.

18. What was the best way you used your time this past year? Abiding in Christ. Running. Spending time with my family.

19. What was biggest thing you learned this past year? I am always planting seeds. People are always watching, and they’re waiting to see what you do. They’re either waiting for you to mess up, or to succeed. But they need something to believe in.

This past year was a challenge in many respects. Humbling at times or discouraging. But there was also a lot to celebrate. 

Grateful for a year of learning and growth, for the four of us together, and for so many new experiences.

The thing that scares you

"Do one thing every day that scares you. Those small things that make us uncomfortable help us build courage to do the work we do," Eleanor Roosevelt. And also, "The future belongs to those who believe in the beauty of their dreams."

Walking down the street to have a talk in another lifetime, prayers on my lips, but feeling very under-prepared for the friend/foe/battle I would encounter.

Walking across the street the first time in the after to introduce ourselves ... as homeschoolers.

The first day teaching.

Sitting at the table the day I died.

Quitting.

Applying for the team.

Running my first race.

Doing a first duathlon.

Signing up for a triathlon.

The first day on the pool deck.

Doing the triathlon.

The high ride at the amusement park with Erin.

Taking the steps into a dream ... When I got the acceptance notice recently, big tears sprang to my eyes. A song was playing on repeat in my headphones, and I started to dance. One step closer, and it scares me. Wakes me from sleep from the gut--the reality of it all. Oh how a dream feels so safe sitting on the high shelf of someday maybe (but maybe not). But when you actually put your hand upon it, it takes on life force, and nothing is the same ever again.

Growth comes on the other side of the comfort zone. And so does freedom.

Remember to live.

Note to self: do the thing that scares you.

On Christmas day in the morning

We went to a former church for Christmas Eve Eve service. That church had been a huge part of my life, and it felt odd walking in to a place that was once so familiar and now so distant. A new pastor, new people working there--it's been seven years? I saw faces of people I'd served with and talked to in the past, but I felt like a ghost there. Invisible. The four of us got seats in a row, and I felt really grateful we were all there together--because that in itself was huge. When the opening video came on and the lights suddenly brightened overhead, I wanted to cry. And I would have cried, that place that felt so familiar and like home, and the grappling I've had between past and present--but this message, and one they've excelled in speaking--oh, how I prayed it would reach a heart: You are loved. That church was always really good at sharing the message that God loves you (even if no one else notices you). 

Lanie and I planned to go to Catholic Mass on the Eve. Noah from the phone center was going to meet us. And while Shane has made it clear he's not converting, I invited him. 

"I knew this day was going to come," he said. He accepted my invitation. I asked Erin next.

"I'm sure THEY don't want someone like ME there," she said. And I could feel the walls shoot up, separating us. 

We got to the church and I became fully aware of the Christmas and Easter crowd. I'd only given us fifteen minutes buffer before the start, which then seated us in the Narthex because the interior was packed already. Lanie sat with her piano teacher and her husband inside. Noah was a no show. Shane and I sat in the lobby with parents and their crying babies. I'd hoped he'd get to experience the beauty of what was going on inside the sanctuary--the organ, the choir, the lights, the priests, the response. But we just heard crying babies and saw people walking in hallways and doing all the behind-the-scenes preparation. And somehow, it felt a little symbolic to me. But from what I could tell, it was beautiful. 

(I texted a friend later about it all--one church's focus on the God of Heaven coming down for YOU and one church's focus on the God of Heaven coming down and He Is Holy: Praise Him!)

Christmas day I got up in the dark, turned on the lights on the tree, made coffee and drank a cup. I felt all the feelings, deep in thought. Shane came downstairs and hugged me. He said tender words to me and held me and I was thankful. 

"Are you going for a run?" he asked. 

"Yeah," I said. I put on my Christmas-themed run shirt, a pair of shorts, my light-up vest, and shoes. Music on, watch started--I ran. I logged in seven miles and ran through the dark, through the pinking sunrise, and into daylight. The world was so quiet. My head was full of Run Track--David Goggins--Robin Williams--Words of the Year--Memories--Church Services--and the Thorn In My Side. The miles flew by, and aside from getting a bit thirsty at the end, they were easy miles.

I finished up, baked off cinnamon rolls, took a shower, unloaded the dishwasher, and then the kids came down and we celebrated the day. It was quiet and low key, and we all spent the bulk of it in each other's company. 

We had gifts for the girls, and such a different scale than from when they were young. 

"Thank you for the Strava upgrade I subscribed to last night," I said to Shane after it all with a wink. He laughed. 

I stayed off social media for most of the day, but did a quick scroll later at all the pictures of piled gifts, wrapping paper, tables of food, smiling faces, and all the matching pajamas. I understood then a comment The One I Love made long ago about not being able to look at things like that when your life wasn't like that. It made me so hyper aware of the people who didn't post on Christmas. The ones who are lonely or hurting or unable to gift or hungry or invisible. 

My run auto-posted to Strava. I went through to encourage the people I follow on their Christmas day activities and found several Christmas wishes on my feed and kudos on my run. My band of brothers, each in our own parts of the world. We've never met, yet we see each other. We've never spoken, but we cheer each other on.

Eve

It's Christmas Eve, and it feels like the eve of another chapter. 

Traditions feel hurried forced. Where there was childlike anticipation, there is apathy. Exhaustion. I remember holidays past with fondness, and with longing. 

"This might be the last Christmas we are all together," I said to Shane. "What happens when they're gone or they don't come home?"

It crushes me. 

"Then we'll go someplace or do something else," he said. 

"Expect to be skiing," I replied. But whatever it would be, could it ever even touch what was?

Nora encouraged me to keep up with the Christmas Eve books, but Lanie doesn't even read for fun anymore, and Erin has her own digitally published genre she follows. I didn't get books this year. Or last year. 

My favorite childhood holiday memories are of a time or two when my parents played music in the house on Christmas morning as our signal to come downstairs, and the canned cinnamon rolls my mom would pop open and heat up. They were delicious and warm. I always liked the one in the circle center, soft and often most frosted. 

Along the way, I had to learn to make my own cinnamon rolls gluten free for Lanie. This is the recipe spinning on dough cycle:

GF Cinnamon Roll dough

1/2 c brown rice flour

1/2 c tapioca flour

1 7/8 c cornstarch

2 T psylium husk powder (or 1 T xanthan gum, but I was out)

1 pkg active yeast

1/2 t salt

1 c warm milk

1/2 c honey

2 eggs

1 stick unsalted butter, melted and cooled

1 splashy t of vanilla

I put the wet ingredients in the bottom of the bread pot first. Then I top with the whisked dry ingredients. I set it on dough cycle and walk away. This is enough for 12 rolls. When the dough cycle is complete, I'll roll it out, slather with softened butter, festoon with brown sugar and cinnamon, roll it long, and slice it up, placing the rolls into a buttered pyrex dish. Cover and refrigerate overnight. Pull out about 1 hour before baking off. Frost with your favorite recipe. I've used cream cheese variations.

Christmas Eve 2023

 

My kids might remember a favorite gift they've received. They might remember ornament shopping. They might remember cinnamon rolls--although I don't make them every year. This year I made the effort. This year I think long on lasts. 

For better or for worse, my kids will remember parts of their childhood and holidays. Thanksgiving and Easter were former struggles (for me) with family or guests and getting ready, but Christmas was generally a slower, low key. I always enjoyed it. 

While that writer on Christmas (first image) remarks how a mom (parent) shows up on Christmas will be their children's memories, I think long on what Christmas traditions have come to be, to me, that I treasure. I have carried the music and cinnamon rolls from my childhood to my home. But Christmas is just us, and there were years that Shane and I didn't exchange gifts, but we focused on the kids--starting the season off with ornament shopping, time set aside for wrapping the kids' gifts, sometimes trying to get a pan of cinnamon rolls ready, the Advent chocolates or some way of marking the time to Christmas, trying to squeeze in a holiday performance or outing, church service, coffee and music in the morning, sometimes books on the eve, Christmas nachos (which were a throwback to my very financially lean years and just wanting to eat something yummy and spend time together with people I loved), and always I looked forward to the joy on the kids' faces to see their gifts (wrapped in paper picked just for them), and play the morning away. Aside from the very obvious about Christmas being about Jesus, Christmas was about family, and specifically my kids. 

And when you reach this part of the journey, and the kids aren't kids, it's weird that in an instant, Christmas doesn't feel like Christmas. 

It feels like grief.

And still counting ... (18,781-18,920)

the little chapel, candlelight, power walking with Denise, leaves on the driveway to rake, the start of week 4

progress, a friend running her first Turkey Trot who says she follows my races religiously on Ig, the Hunger Games opening day with Erin, big pizza slices for her, a yummy pasta and protein dinner that Lanie loved

church that's open every day, when she shared things with me that she doesn't share with other people, friends who pray, Thanksgiving week, Lanie home from school

swim days, long run days, magnesium cream, new doorknobs, protein pasta

my neighbors behind me at an early morning Mass, the little glass cups I bought forever ago for a 66 Books brunch now making a return for a Thanksgiving dessert, all the memories we made here, a little black kitten who loves to play, Ruth asleep on my feet

the really "slow runner" who stood me up for our gym date and got me even clearer on priorities and following through, protein bars for Christy, the ridiculously full joy I feel from strength training, flowers in a vase in the kitchen, a 2024 race calendar 

beef stew in the oven on a rainy day, bench presses, a light-up running vest, a fire in the school room wood stove, fairy lights on the mantel

texts with Denise N, the holiday atmosphere, people wishing each other happy Thanksgiving, rainy days, everything about this home

our Christmas tree up and decorated, ornaments hanging in the windows like they have at Christmas time for so many years, that someone in the house took the initiative to hang the bells on the front door because that's where they've always gone, Christmas music playing throughout the rooms, so much fun as the four of us shopped at the ornament store

how we all sat around the table on Thanksgiving day and talked and laughed, the warm glow of light over the table, the cheesecake shooters for dessert, how I'm eating through the holiday and still losing weight, a septic line repair

fence repairs, a wreath for the mini coop, eggs for lunch, shopping in Wegmans with my man, that he and Erin got pizza

Lanie enjoying the holiday break, Girl Scout cookies delivered and a good convo with another mom, sunrises through winter woods, chocolate advent calendars for the kids, Saturday Mass

the turkey trot, working packet pick up, the incredible joy I feel serving, the incredible joy I feel on race day, giving away the extra bags and making people laugh

connection, a teammate dressed up like a banana, laughing as he passed me on the course, running my fastest mile time in FOREVER, group photos with teammates

the brief sadness I felt at our team's last run for the season, work in my 2024 planner, the post-race energy and joy I feel, putting together the Thanksgiving dinner all afternoon, Cindy's apple pie requested by Lanie and smelling so good throughout the house

pie for breakfast (for Lanie), remembering the years as we unpacked the ornaments, treasuring the tradition, wreaths on the doors, seeing the viking ornaments at the store and all the feels that welled up in me

memories of Linda, texts with Anita, a power walk with Denise and Lanie, reading medieval with Erin, the best ever swim sesh

the sushi chef who served us pizza, the way he honored and blessed me (literally), the Christmas card she received from her crew at camp that she's "going to keep," the request for a job interview, same day yeses when I asked writers if they will return next year

the writers (they are my brothers and sisters) on 66 Books, chicken soup with ramen noodles, weight loss, energy, strength

Christmas lights, a prayer book to read through Advent, coffee with cream and sugar, magnesium cream, the Tracer 2

a little 3-mile run before I completely tanked, lots of sleep, tea, tissues, cold water

snow on her birthday, cake from Wegmans, all of us at the table, laughter, staying up later and watching old Alex Rider episodes

hot and healthy meals, walk days, cold air, a comfy bed, my kids

poetry that makes me cry, angels among us, answered prayer, foggy mornings, grilling in the rain

grace, a great 10k run, a comfy race shirt, cuddles on the couch, Christmas cards in the mail

Winter Candy Apple hand soap--her favorite, the guy at the feed store who remembered us and Tilly, clean clothes, mild days, that song in my head

seats to a Christmas (Eve Eve) service, that even if it isn't the life I'd hoped for--it's the life I have, the Christmas lights trail, a fuzzy blanket on the couch when I couldn't fall back to sleep, a surprise gift drop off from Anita

raw milk, wrapping paper, cinnamon rolls to prep, the running community on Strava, all the miles on these feet in 2023

 

A weary world rejoices

Shane's phone was having issues, so I offered to get it fixed for him. I went to the mall with Erin and got in line at the Apple store. I'd have a 2-hour wait to see a technician. Erin and I took off throughout the mall. She got a few tops at her favorite store and I snagged a last-minute sweater to wear on Christmas Eve Eve (we are attending two churches this year--one on the eve, eve, and one on the eve.). 

However, when I got in to see the tech, he said I'd need to see my phone service provider to have the SIM card replaced, something about how if he did it, they would charge me and it might void any warranties. Since it really was close to home and near a next stop for wrapping paper, I decided to go.

Erin was beat from being out (we'd been gone five hours at that point and I was beat too--and hungry). I went into the store while Erin napped in the car. It wasn't as simple as I thought it would be--lots of phone calls, hoops, and permissions. 

But this:

The guy trying to help me decided to start up polite small talk while we waited during an approval process. I patiently engaged, and before I knew it, we were engrossed in deeper conversation. I found out he's relatively new to the area with family at opposite ends of the country; he just started this job a few months ago; he was spending the holiday alone. 

The voice in my head couldn't get any louder. I stepped gently ahead and mentioned a large, local, non-denomination church he could try out for a Christmas service. Awkward moment of quiet. Then I proceeded to tell him about local running clubs and the joy of running--wagging my finger (and apologizing) like a mom to underscore the importance of finding healthy friends who are in pursuit of positive goals and that the running community is an encouraging community. I told him that if he started running now that he would affect future generations in his family line by having healthy habits. I was a second away from giving him a discount code! But he circled back to church, and told me he was looking for a Catholic church, and asked if I knew of any that had a Latin Mass. What great conversation ensued! He sent me a link to a video about the Orthodox church, and he was so knowledgeable of church history. What a welcome delight for me. And next thing I know, he's attending a Mass with me and Lanie on Christmas Eve!

I told Shane all about the crazy day that ended with a church invitation to a young guy who was feeling admittedly lonely at Christmas. 

"He has no idea he's going to be doing a Turkey Trot next year!" Shane remarked, and we laughed, because RIGHT?!

What are you doing?

I started brainstorming for a 2024 goal map and I discovered a word of the year. I enjoy the anchor of a strong word. And I enjoy the manipulation of words in my mind, stretching and pulling and bending a thought, looking at it from a new angle. 

I loved my tidy list of 2023 goal prompts--felt like I had gotten to the marrow of a focus. I thought of a former writer's words on 66 Books, how he could take the easy way out of a familiar Scripture in his writing, but decided to approach it instead with the hopes of fresh perspective. I decided to do the same with my questions. 

How does my spending support my goals became how do my actions support my goals? And that took me to a whole new level. 

How do my actions support my community, family, finances, health, home, faith, work, and creativity? 

Do my actions support what matters? What do my actions say of my faith? What do my actions say of me?  What matters here?

"Goals won't change you life ... knowing what matters will." a paraphrase from Powersheets 2024

I'm already getting a head start on the year having begun the year-long training plan and reconfiguring my diet for nutritional support. Suddenly, being cute in jeans isn't nearly as attractive to me as being strong and able. One has more to do with how I want to be perceived and the other to do with the quality of life I want to live.

I'm in the planning stages for first quarter goals right now, and asking myself what matters leads naturally to what am I going to do about it? 

My word for 2024 is action, because we are what we repeatedly do. 

The clock ticks loudly already. 

“Teach us to number our days that we may apply our hearts to wisdom” (NKJV). Or as the Living Bible puts it, “Teach us to number our days and recognize how few they are; help us to spend them as we should.” Psalm 90:12. 

This was my January 2023 mood board.

This is my January 2024 mood board. Some things still matter.

Angels among us

The Big Day was coming, and she was having misgivings and doubts. I wasn't sure at all how it would go, but we both knew how much was ultimately riding on it. I tottered between saying too much and not saying enough. My urges to overcompensate were on high alert.

I prayed in the morning for her peace and nerves and doubts. I prayed on the way there for strength and courage and success. 

God, is it enough for me to have faith? Can I pray for someone who has doubts and lean on my mustard seed faith that you will come through? Can you show up unmistakably? Will you do a miracle here?

We pulled into the parking lot. I was ready to walk her to the office, but she wanted to wait the full minutes until it was time. 

"But we might have to go do a different location," I suggested. 

Suddenly, a cheery face showed up outside the passenger door. I waved happily and got out.

"I thought that was you, Erin! I saw when you guys pulled in! I said: that looks like Erin!" So welcoming. Erin smiled and got out. This woman continued on in the friendliest chatter.

"Is the interview at the office?" I asked. It was almost time.

"Actually it's over here," she said pointing, and to Erin, "I'll walk with you."

I got back into the car as the two headed off. A friendly force, a friendly distraction. I snagged a picture and texted my answer-to-prayer to Shane.

God sent a friendly face to break the ice.

Some time later, Erin returned. After she filled me in on the details and we were heading out, I mentioned, "How cool your friend showed up when she did! What's her name?"

"I don't know," Erin said. "I don't know her at all."

"You don't know her? But she acted like she knew you?" I wondered.

"Yeah, I don't know her. I've never seen her. I guess she works in the office," Erin said.

Whoever the mystery friend is, had she any idea she was the answer to my prayer? That she was the unnamed miracle who showed up outside of my car to make a way for my kiddo on a stressful day? 

It was not lost on me. This was the Lord showing up in a big way, and I love it. 

Thank you, God. That was absolutely beautiful. It was absolutely you.

Hurtling through time

It snowed this morning. When I came downstairs to make coffee, full, fat flakes fell outside, under the spotlight of porch lights. I was happy. It's Erin's birthday. She loves snow, and she's been disappointed at the very unsnowy winters we've had.

She told me today that she felt that her childhood is over. That it's been over. And that come January, it will be the start of her eighteenth year, even though she's seventeen. She is nearly an adult.

Today we picked up her birthday cake, and she was happy about it. Originally she wanted to make her own cake. Then she didn't know what to make. Then she was resigned there would be nothing. But I wouldn't give up celebrating a kiddo. So I ordered the cake behind her back and picked it up with her in tow. (I think she was glad.) She got a slice of pizza too.

She talked about her favorite stories to me, and shared memories of her childhood. So interesting to hear about her life from her viewpoint. What are the things that kids hold dear? What are the things they don't forget? She talked about stuff I didn't remember, but it was good that she did. Swingsets. The other house. My Little Pony. My phone calls with Miss Christy. The yard sale. Toys she had. Bolt.

I pulled out a book of poetry to read the ones for this date, and I started crying. It took me no less that five tries to get through the first lines of Don't Quit by Edgar Guest. And next was Remembering Snow by Brian Patten. I cried at that one too.

Ruth put her front paws up on the couch to nuzzle in between us, as she usually does. Erin commented on the growing number of white hairs on her black muzzle.

"You are hurtling through time," I mentioned to my sweet and loyal dog. And I felt the gravity of it as my daughter woke into a next year. Applesauce bread baked in the oven this morning. I tidied the house after a weekend sick on the couch. I changed the letter board to wish her a happy birthday, letters wonky and staggered to catch her attention (they did--did she look for evidence she was remembered?).

This is hard. 

With just a year, and I think of all I want to do, and all I wish I had done, and all that I could do over. I am overcome. (Oh, only a four will cry at your party.) 

I remember one and how she was under the weather on her first celebration.

I remember two and she tried to lick the icing off the cake as I showed it to her.

I remember three and she asked when she could open the gifts at her party.

I remember the party that got snowed out.

I remember the rollerskating rink party.

I remember the birthday tea.

I remember special friends over.

And I'll remember this one, so bittersweet, of childhood nearly gone, but also gone. And how this mama wished those good days lasted longer. (I don't think my parents knew this love.)

I'll probably be the only one to sing the song tonight, and I hope I don't cry. 

To Erin: may you live up to and walk in confidence in all that God has for you, glorifying him in all that he set in motion for you. Be who he created you to be, without apology. 

And don't quit.

Day story

 December 2023

Outside my window, mist and fog. I got an early run start today to squeeze in a long run before class. Nine miles. I wore my Noxgear Tracer 2 and lamp (so nice not wearing headlamps on runs anymore). I sincerely love the Tracer 2--and I've looked for lots of ways to make myself visible in night and rain runs. (You can love it too with a referral link.) My neighbor came home from night shift and saw me running in the rain. She just kinda looked at me in disbelief. You guys: I'm not kidding. I love running.

And I quote, "Own it." Lucy Gray to Coriolanus Snow. This was way more powerful in the book than in the movie, but the movie was really good and got in as much of the book as it could in 2 hours and 45 minutes! (It actually went by pretty fast.)

Giving thanks for a sushi chef and today's class discussion on prayer. Giving thanks for returning writers on 66 Books. Giving thanks for new networks--Mind Over Matter and Noxgear Nation.

In the school room, we are getting the work done. And we are absolutely delighting in moments of Le Morte D'Arthur by Sir Thomas Mallory). Denison Math makes it SOOO good. You guys: I'm almost done. How did this happen so fast?

From the kitchen, I mentioned out loud this weekend that I would be making a baked good. Shane or Erin reminded me today. Erin especially requested applesauce bread, but while I'm waiting for butter to get to room temperature, I made two loaves of pumpkin bread with cinnamon chips. The house smells delicious. It feels good to be home, on a Sunday, with a misty outside, Christmas lights on the tree, and yumminess that smells like hygge and hugs and warmth.

I am making progress. Entering week six on macros and training. I feel happy and strong. I feel really balanced instead of carb crashing all the time. The meals are filling and nutritious. Goodness--the chili mac I made last night (I subbed protein pasta for regular pasta) made enough for leftovers tonight. What a blessing. And it was really tasty.

I don't want to forget how Erin's face looked in the strobe light at her first concert. She looked at me as she filmed her favorite band and mouthed, "Sqwaak." Which is how she sometimes expresses contentment. Lovejoy was in Philadelphia earlier this summer, and by the time she mustered courage to tell me how much she wanted to see them, tickets were at $350 a piece. It would have been a fun girls' trip, but this was a little too extravagant for us. I was disappointed to tell her no. But then she excitedly told me this fall they were coming back, locally, and I looked up tickets: $75 each (and the concert featured four bands!). So we went. We got there pretty early. And we got as close to the stage as we could. It was a lot of fun. And I know that it meant so very much to her.

I am reading, still, the book about the differences between Catholics and Protestants. Still working my way through Beth Moore's Daniel study. And just received a copy Sacred Space by Irish Jesuits for the Advent and Christmas season 2023-2024, and Catholic Prayers for Catholic Families.

Around the house, I'm really trying to savor the season. A December to remember. This is the last year of Erin's childhood, if I can even consider her a child. This is a much harder space to be in. My goal planner has a strong family focus for 2024--along with faith and fitness. But those three have always been a Very Big Deal to me anyway.

On the letterboard: Leave No Doubt (I mean, it's still good)

I value reliability.

A view of my favorite things

Y'all. MACROS

When I found myself in the crowd for their 1/2 marathon ad!

At the concert with my girl

Her favorite band in town

No joke. I have black masks. This is accurate.

 

At the table, God, help us to grow closer as a family in this season and coming year. We so enjoyed Thanksgiving together. There was laughter. It was just us. And I found out from Lanie that she really only wanted it to be us at Thanksgiving--the kids never felt like they could be themselves when people were over. Maybe I should have asked them sooner. Alas.

When God shows up at the grocery store

We had just finished a conversation that left us at strained odds. 

We walked into the store and I gathered myself together and put on my smile. I stopped off at the pizza counter to get her some slices, her latest favorite. The regular pizza guys weren't there, but a sushi chef was visiting coworkers in a next area. He turned to me all smiles and asked how he could help me.

"Two slices of cheese pizza, please?" I asked, big smiling. My daughter stayed back.

"Which pieces do you want?" he offered. I was a little surprised by that, because we aren't usually given the option.

He reached for the biggest one, "This is the biggest one." So kind.

I asked for a cheesy one too.

"Your daughter?" he asked, gesturing toward my girl. I nodded. I could see him sizing up our situation--my overcompensating friendliness, her aloof demeanor.

He packaged up the pizzas. And unlike any service before, he walked from around the counter to hand them personally to me instead of over the counter. He held the boxes out and bowed respectfully before me. I took them from his hands, like he was giving me a gift. 

He put his hands together like a prayer, paused, searching for words, bowed again, humbly.

"God bless you," he said.

My eyes instantly teared up as I looked at him in wonder. 

"Thank you. God bless you too," I said.

And then it was like he disappeared, swallowed up among the throng of coworkers. I walked off completely stunned at the interaction.

God sees us in all our mess and heartache. He catches our tears. And he sends us brothers and sisters along the way to encourage us and bless us. Sadly, my daughter didn't notice any of the interaction when I brought it up later.

There were other things that happened that day that underscored God's presence for me. But that one stands out so vividly. So personally. His gentle voice. His compassion. His humility and honor.

Thank you, God, for a sushi chef who loves you and took time to love me too.

Holy macros, Batman!

Weightwatchers and LA Weightloss worked for me years (YEARS) ago, but they also made me obsessive over food. Whole 30 was, for me, extreme dieting, unrealistic, and unsustainable. Calorie counting was a huge win in 2018, and the weight came off pretty fast. But I've changed a lot since 2018. I run a lot more. I strength train. I bike. I swim. I exercise daily because I love it, not to punish myself for food choices I made or plan to make. I also learned that how food interacts with my body is really important.

This year was a bit challenging for me, trying to figure out how to level up in my training and do ALL THE THINGS. I was battling fatigue. And I was hungry. I was gaining weight even though I was doing so much more. My fitness stats were plummeting.

I had to get a physical for a race I'm doing next year. My labs, for the most part, were great: especially cholesterol. The last time I had a physical, in 2019, I was a cookie away from pre-diabetes. This time, I had both feet solidly in it. (I'm not worried.)

I told my doctor I was going to be starting macros, and she was completely supportive. She also does triathlon and marathons, so she knows the kind of training I go through and she knows about aging women.

I'm 3.5 weeks into it (or 4, depending how you count it), and I've lost 7.4 pounds. The first week, the inflammation went down considerably. I haven't been hungry once. In fact, I'm eating 1600+ calories a day versus the 1300 calories LoseIt put me on. This plan takes my training into account. Friends, 300 calories is like a bonus meal. In a group I'm in, they suggest focusing on your protein goals and staying within the calorie range.

In calorie counting alone, I could eat a huge bowl of ice cream as long as it was within my calorie range (bonus NOT: it could also act as a catalyst for the internal crazy of type 2 diabetes, cancer, heart disease, etc.). In this plan, I'm mindful of where the calories are coming from: protein, fats, carbs. Hitting my protein goals has chilled me out: my sleep cycle is regulating, my energy levels are consistent, and my recovery times have improved. This is real self-care. 

I built my plan around my morning coffee because I'm not giving up cream and sugar. Today I had 2 biggie cups of coffee with cream and sugar; a peanut butter/chocolate protein bar, an apple with a spoon of peanut butter, 3 scrambled eggs with a piece of toast, 16-ounce chocolate protein shake, and beef stew for dinner. If I needed it, I'd make a mug of hot tea with honey. (I don't have to do bars or shakes, I just chose them because they were easy today. And I like the way they taste.)

Tomorrow, I'm not missing out on anything for Thanksgiving; turkey, potatoes, green beans, dressing, salad, cheesecake. And that's just the star meal. I'll still have stuff for breakfast and lunch. No having to save myself up for a super-sized meal.

I run six days a week, swim one day, weight train five days. The food I'm eating is fuel and a true kindness to my body. 

If you're interested in learning more, check out Macros Inc online to do a free macro calculation (pick sedentary if you aren't weight training). You can go hyper focused and weigh out everything, but I use the Skinnytaste cookbooks and follow their serving sizes. They also list the macros and other items of interest for each recipe. 

I'm using Michael Matthews' book The One Year Challenge for Women: Thinner, Leaner, and Stronger Than Ever in Just 12 Months. As an aging human, building muscle is important for strong bones, quicker recovery, and overall strength. His book has 5-day, 4-day or 3-day training options and just a few moves that won't overwhelm or burn you out. Let's age well, friends. 

Today I ran five miles (because I love running and I wanted to do this) and then went to the gym for my Wednesday training session (pull moves and could have been finished in 15 minutes by stacking the effort, if I hadn't gotten into a conversation with some people). I had to drop my car off for service and was also (haha--I'm a freaking FORCE these days) surprised by my level of energy in my interactions with people. Best kinda happy there is. And then I walked home from there. 

I want you to know this kind of energy, joy, and fulfillment. I want you to know real self-care. I want you to feel and be strong. I want you to make choices today that your future self is going to be grateful for. So I'm telling you about what I'm doing and how it's going. We should want each other to succeed.

I remember my why: I don't want to live or die like my dad did. 

And I'm not. 

Yes, I am.

Your life depends on it.

This little light of mine, I'm going to let it shine.

We are what we repeatedly do. You're either action or excuse.

gluten free and a lot of protein: win!

I put protein in my coffee with collagen, drink Isopure when I need an easy protein boost or post workout recovery drink, and will make a shake out of the Orgain mixes. I use hydroboost for electrolytes on long runs as needed. Drinking protein is such an easy fix. You can get these at the store or online. Right now Orgain has their peppermint mix out. Happy holidays! Yay winter!

I can't wait to see how these changes show up in my lab work whenever I get it redone. And I can't wait to see how this training plan prepares me for next year's goals, or even just enjoying tomorrow. 

#TheGlitterJoyIsReal

And still counting ... (18,731-18,780)

an air fryer, a workout plan, Skinnytaste Air Fryer cookbooks, a macro plan, new goals

his embrace, coffee on the weekends and having to make extra because three of us are drinking, super fun with Erin, the sweetest black kitten, an opening day movie out

a pizza slice for her at Wegmans, a cookie as big as her hand, the way the leaves RAINED down on us, the prettiest October of my life, beauty everywhere

excitement for Thanksgiving, the busiest calendar full of living, the senior photos she posted in her stories, edits the feel like music (it's all music), warm weather at the end of October

sweet Ruth and the white hairs showing up on her aging face, fall racing, visibly reduced inflammation, strength training to failure, a strong start

the Wednesday message on carrying your cross, first fires in the fireplace, a turkey trot, two teams and new year feels, team clothes

roots done, twinning with my teen, concert tickets to her favorite band for her birthday, a next goal book waiting, all the books stacked to read

how the campus looked in fall--perfection, my friends who read and acknowledge at 66 Books, the writers on 66 Books, perfect dreary November days, muscle soreness after a good workout

home, tall people at the gym, all the Skinnytaste cookbooks, protein powders, Shane

the spotter at the gym, the woman in the running group who runs "super slow", weight loss, strength building, week 3

Day story

 November 2023

Outside my window, frost on the lawn. Trees wintering. A family of deer pass through the yard. The driveway raked clear for a running start. Wood stacked. Breath billows in early morning light when I take the dog out. I love November. It is everything cozy and home. 

And I quote, 

"Fitness is one of those rare things you can't buy, steal, or fake." Michael Matthews, Thinner, Leaner, Stronger

Giving thanks for time to think. I've had a lot to ponder--crosses we carry; reliability and intention; the shaping of hearts and minds; discipline and habit; the next twenty years. Shane and I thought about how twenty-two years ago, we had our first family home built, and since then, we added two daughters, four cats, two dogs and six chickens to our home (a cat and dog are no longer living). We saw our girls grow and learn and become themselves. And we've witnessed our own changes to adapt to life. As I enter the third week of macros and strength training, I think about a question posed by a fellow athlete about my goals, and my response: I don't want to break easily; I want to live a vibrant, active life. (I have many aging neighbors, and two have died just this year--most of them stay inside their homes, have painful ailments, stroke, dementia. It sobers me to action. Fitness is the one thing I can do for myself.) We have given deep thought how we want to prepare our bodies to be strong in these next twenty years. And twenty years goes by in a blink.

In the school room, we are reading medieval history and literature. Math is going great! I'm savoring this time with Erin, and she's quick to remind me about the ticking clock of time. It goes too fast. 

From the kitchen, I'm baking a pumpkin bread with cinnamon chips. I told Erin I'd make a loaf this morning, and she encouraged me to get started. It's in the oven now. I unloaded the dishwasher, prepped the coffee maker for tomorrow's brew, and purposed to tidy the spaces and clean the windows (I love clean windows!). I used to feel annoyed when a kid shirked her responsibilities. But then, I didn't want to carry around those feelings. I want to remember all the years my kids were young and didn't do much to help, and that I loved caring for my home. I can still love it. They are still my kids, and this is still my home, and I never want to model annoyance and resentment. I never want them to think I didn't like being a homemaker--because I love it. Time is short. They will be gone--I will be gone. I'm going to enjoy it all now.

I am so grateful. For the smell of pumpkin bread baking (even though I'm not eating any, haha!). For a change in health stats (rested, recovered, ready). For the way my muscles feel since I started lifting heavier. For a food plan that is balanced, nourishing and filling. For the ability to run miles and swim laps. Health and faith--you can't buy, steal, or fake these things either. I'm thankful for floors to sweep, rooms to tidy, this daily tending of a place that's home for people I love.

I don't want to forget I'm planting seeds. While an enemy follows behind and wants to scoop up the seeds I put down, I'm going to keep on scattering tenderness, love, patience, kindness, and all of it like it's a freaking glitter storm. He wants to tire me out, but I'm not going to make it easy for him either. 

I am reading, still, the Beth Moore Daniel Bible study. Understanding the Divide by Lyle Weiss and Thomas Tasselmyer. Every Woman a Theologian by Phylicia Masonheimer. 

Around the house, purged from the garage. Hoping to get stands for bikes and a new kitchen island. Also would like bookshelves for the school room. Thinking about freshening color scheme. 

On the letterboard: Leave No Doubt

I value the work. Of being a wife and mom. Of following Christ. Of homeschooling. Of training and eating better. Of doing the right thing. Of going back to the places where I cried and laughing instead. Of loving a neighbor. Of following through. Of conviction of values. Of stewarding time, talent, treasure, heart, and health. These things mean something to me, and I want to leave no doubt that they did. The work is where the growth and the reward are--the "who we become" through the journey.

A view of my favorite things

 

Little harvest.

Stronger every week.

Week two in the books and left no doubt I was working!

The perfect November vibe.

When my HRV finally balanced.

Excited for 2024

At the table, thinking on Thanksgiving. Getting excited about planning a menu and filling my home full of yummy smells, warmth, glowy light, laughter, togetherness. That morning, a 5k race. The next day, we put up the Christmas tree. I'm going to savor it all. My oldest is 21. My youngest is turning 17. How many more years will we be at the table together? One? Three? Five? And how many years will I celebrate these holidays? If I have twenty more, you better believe I'm going to savor each one. 

Memento vivere.

On resilience

When a friend asked me why I was focused on fitness, I said I wanted to be hard to kill. (That's just a piece of it, truly it was because I didn't want to live or die like my dad.) Physical, mental, and moral strength would help me to be resilient. To bend, but not break under pressure. 

I would learn a lesson in what it means to bend but not break. I'm sure there are a million lessons in that respect, and while mine are minor examples in life circumstances, it is the building process of training that achieves strength. Five-pound weights can lead to thirty-pound weights.

• I must have started 75 Hard a dozen times in the past two years, and not once did I complete it. Each time big fatigue brought me down, or peri-menopause, or a stupid slip up starting the clock over. Oh that the clock could start over, giving one a do-over, and in that grace: how does one not finish? With a do-over? A fellow on the journey stopped taking me seriously. When pictures came, he asked me to take the picture of him and the elites, instead of joining them in the frame. 
• When weight gain crept up the first ten pounds, I didn't think much of it since I was still within my goal range. But then when I started gaining upon that, I reached a mark of concern. I was feeling it in my clothing, in my effort, and my choices were showing up in my bloodwork. Suddenly, I found myself in a miserable struggle of losing a little and gaining it right back--a drain on momentum for sure. My efforts were not working. I wasn't getting anywhere.
• Monthly goals of running 100+ miles dwindled after the triathlon by giving in a little here and there. Suddenly I was having 2-3 rest days a week instead of a month. I wouldn't break 60 miles/mo for the rest of the year. High dew points. Poor air quality. Hot gyms. I was getting comfortable in my excuses. And races I had planned on (an October 10-miler and a much anticipated half marathon that a lot of my teammates are attending THIS COMING WEEKEND) were shelved for me because I wasn't ready. (I already knew what a mess it was to run a half marathon under-prepared. You can't fake a half marathon. And you can't fake fitness.)
• I was letting other people down. I was letting myself down. If I valued excellence, perseverance, endurance, and leveling up, why were my actions and results telling a different story? The worst was when I was having a schedule conflict with racing and a class, and a mentor said some humbling words that caused me to really wrestle with all my choices. (I'm still wrestling.)
• Last week a friend met me at the gym to help me with a new training program. That first day was great, because she was there to help me set up and get into position (hip thrusts, anyone? Because that is a tricky one to manage by yourself.). But when I returned this week to repeat it again, I was on my own. The gym was crowded. I was intimidated. I didn't have the strength to get into position on my own. I felt invisible and alone and defeated. I did all the exercises I could except for that one, and then found myself in the locker room crying silent tears in frustration. 

Shane suggested I look for other exercises I could do on my own that mimicked hip thrusts (glute bridges with a barbell, in case you're wondering). So I went back the next day and did that day's workout, and I threw in the bridges to make up for the day before. That is resilience--bouncing back, finding a way, and not making an excuse (however legitimate).

Resilience is in the doing. It is in the training and the perseverance. It is the strength of physical, mental, and moral foundations that gives integrity to the doer to bounce back, to bend and not break, to return to its original state. It is taking the punch and finding your feet again. It is getting up each day and lacing up your shoes. It is getting back in the gym even after the tears. It is doing what it takes despite circumstance.

I read a message from Andy Frisella on getting away from people who talk about doing but don't follow through:

These people will do nothing other than drain you and your hopes of accomplishing whatever it is you want to accomplish in life. Seek out people who are committed to taking the actions required to make it happen. People who ask themselves "How can I do it?" ... and follow it up with massive action. These people will inspire greatness inside of you. These people will encourage your growth. These people will help you reach your goals. Keep them close.

I considered who I was in that light, and I owned I was falling short of following through. Was that the example I wanted for my children, my friends, my faith? Was this really the story I wanted my life to tell: she tried, but, you know, she was tired and THAT HUMIDITY! That CANDY BAR! That RACE! What were the things stopping me from following through really? Certainly not a candy bar. More like apathy, comfort, and procrastination.

When I write that I value resilience, I want my life to show the proof of integrity. Rest days are part of training, but excuses are not.

This year showed me that I was not as resilient as my hopes wanted me to be. I value the lesson. And now I value the training and the mentors all the more. (Regarding my mentor's hard but loving words, I knew that that was the person I wanted in my corner ... after I got over my hurt feelings. The people who are zealous in the pursuit, they are the ones who inspire others to level up. They are the iron that sharpens iron.)