I have planned for several days to sit down and write here, again. Only I haven’t. I haven’t because the last thing I posted about Encouraging Words received a fairly impressive (read: intimidating) number of hits and I simply couldn’t figure out what to say that could follow that up. So I sat, and I looked, but I didn’t write.
Earlier tonight while the Hunky and I were making dinner I exclaimed “Whoo-hoo! We followed our budget and squeezed all our pennies perfectly this week!” His response? “Whoo hoo for one whole week (insert sarcasm here).” But as I was explaining my thoughts on baby steps, and each day, each choice mattering all on its own, I realized that I haven’t even been taking my own theory to heart. First of all, just because we had a great week this week, doesn’t mean I can expect the whole rest of the year to float by on that one attempt. I have to get up tomorrow and repurpose to follow our plan. And the next day. And the next, until there is another perfect week, then a month…I think you follow. Just because today was great day for our goal, doesn’t mean I can walk away from the rest of the days.
I’ve also purposed to run 1,000 miles this year. I’ve been pretty impressed with myself. Not before running though, before running it’s cold, and I remember how hard that hill is. My calves chime in with their soreness, and this dadgum germ that is flirting with me rears its head and I. just. want. to. not. go. today. But I do go. I throw back the covers. I put on my clothes and shoes. My feet hit the pavement, and I’m running. Every morning. It’s not because I feel like doing it, because I love getting out of bed into the freezing temperatures (though I do love running once I am actually doing it, and mostly when it’s down hill). Each day, a little bit more until 50 miles is peeking at me, right around the corner. That’s more than I’ve ever run in a month. Each mile, each day, each week the miles stack up and suddenly, that thousand miles isn’t as scary as it was when I stepped out for the first step. But I had to do the thing, and I’ll have to keep doing the thing, day after day, mile after mile, because this first good chunk isn’t 1,000 miles and it won’t turn into a thousand miles left on its own.
At the end of last year I made the declaration that this year would have “office hours,” time each day that I would sit down and actually write something every single day. So here we are. Three weeks into the year, and I haven’t put in even one single office hour. I have a million excuses: my desk isn’t as clean as it ought to be, I don’t know what office hours should look like, I don’t know what I should write about, there’s dirty laundry… They are all valid. And all crap. The only way I’m ever going to make this writing thing a habit is to do it. Every day. And the next. And even the next. Until the days and the words add up, and I can look back upon them rolled out behind me and say, “These are the words I had to share, and they mattered. Maybe not to everyone but to someone. To me.” So yes, the last thing I wrote got a lot of attention. This one…well, it’s less inspiring and practical and more the maniacal ramblings of someone who grapples daily with discipline and spends most of her time in fuzzy jammie pants. Here we are thirty minutes later than when I sat down. I’ve done this thing. Today. And tomorrow…I’ll be back again.