Somebody I know posted the above graphic on Facebook a couple of weeks ago. “Please brag to me about a thing you did in 2019 that you’re proud of.” And I looked at that… and looked at that… and couldn’t think of anything. Not a single damn thing that I’m proud of or happy about from 2019.
Now, my kid is awesome, but I can’t take all the credit for her awesomeness. I made her, but she’s also her own human being and she’s a pretty rad human being. I wanted to think of something that made me feel like I had accomplished something as an individual aside from parenting and there wasn’t anything.
This was my lowest mileage running year ever… even the year I was pregnant and gave birth I ran more than this year. I didn’t run any races. I frequently use my lunch hour to workout, and this year I’ve been busy with work and haven’t had as many “lunch hours.”
I didn’t have any goals this year. That’s probably part of the reason I don’t feel like I accomplished anything. But it’s also hard to have goals when you feel like your life is constantly in upheaval and out of your control.
Maybe I need to stop looking at a “big picture” since I don’t know where my life is going to take me, even over the next few months everything is a big gray question mark. Perhaps I should make a goal or “intention” each morning. A goal like 30 minute of exercise every day isn’t a given, you never know if you’ll end up with illness or injury or have unexpected life situations that derail your schedule.
I feel like I used to dream big and have goals. Still deep down I’d like to do an ultramarathon. I’d like to visit Machu Picchu. I’d like to summit Mt Charleston. One of those should be totally doable this year, provided I don’t end up moving. (My husband looking for a job, it’s a whole thing…)
Somewhere along the way I’ve lost all sense of myself. I’m not even sure what I like anymore. Someone was asking me the other day if I had eaten at any good restaurants recently, I realized then the only restaurants I ever visit are ones that I know my child will eat something at. I used to love trying new restaurants. It was fun to try new food and since I telecommute, it’s a chance to escape the house sometimes. But now we are saving money, so we don’t eat out much anyway. And when we do, it should serve a quesadilla for my kid.
I used to like looking up recipes, but I’m not even sure if that is because I truly liked making them or if it just had to do with the fact that I was starving myself with an eating disorder. (Read: Minnesota Starvation Experiment) All I know is right now I hate cooking and meal planning. My kid won’t try anything new and I just don’t want to listen to someone say they are scared to try it and have another person (husband) silently eat the food and then walk away from the table. It’s discouraging.
I used to love blogging. Now I’m not so sure. I don’t mind reviewing stuff that is sent to me, but I also feel like people expect me to turnaround and review it within days (I have a full-time job!) and it also doesn’t feel like anyone reads blogs now. At least, my readership has dropped a lot. And for a long time I didn’t care how many people read my blog, but right now it feels empty. And I don’t think I can ever want to be an “influencer” with my posting, I do it all out of fun. I can’t fathom taking a photo of myself cradling some product and gushing, “You guys! These garbage bags have LITERALLY changed my life!” But the thought of blowing this site up makes me sad. I have blogged since 2001 and my first blog is still floating around out there in the internet ether… if you know what it was called you can probably still find it, even if I lapsed on the domain.
I still love reading, but I don’t get much uninterrupted time to sit down with a book and read. I did read quite a few books this year, but a lot of those were audiobooks. If you listen to those while you run and every time you have to commute for work, which was a lot this year, you get a lot of time to listen.
I used to love learning new web technologies. Now the field changes so fast and I feel like my role in a supervisory position demands more time than I can expend to keeping up like I wish I could. And then there’s the constant onslaught of home demands. I could take time to learn stuff if I give up sleep?
Speaking of sleep… I used to love waking up at 4am to run. Seriously, it was the best part of the day. I loved seeing the sun come up, I loved knowing I’d accomplished something good for me so early in the day, I loved feeling alive! And I did it on about 5 hours of sleep consistently. Well… I can’t do that now. It caught up with me and it now feels hard to wake up at 6am these days. The fact that my child calls out for me in the night, sometimes multiple times in the night, probably doesn’t help. Moving to a new house last year seems to have broken my child who previously could sleep through the night on her own.
Go to bed earlier? Well, I usually get about an hour each night to watch a TV show with my husband. I wouldn’t say it is quality time (I mean, we watch The Masked Singer, so…), but it’s definitely a check mark in the quantity time column. Going to bed earlier would make me miss out on that.
So, this meandering post is basically to say, I don’t know who I am now. I guess I need to figure that out. It’s a new decade, I can do that. Right?