Dharma Bum

The other day, I unexpectedly found the opportunity to have coffee with a friend at work whom I admire greatly. It was kismet, actually and could not have come at a better time as I was slugging it out at my desk, slouching and in need of a break. As we huddled around a mauve formica table in the cafeteria, our talk focused on how she very recently went against the grain and took a hefty risk by accepting a job that requires a lot of travel, a decision she hardly took lightly but one that I secretly rallied for the entire time. As she teeters on the edge of potentially entering motherhood, she knows there are a few more things she would like to accomplish or at least try first. With the support of her husband and ultra-cute dog, she is forging ahead and taking a risk to prove something to herself. This took serious courage and audacity, knowing that it’s not simply a specific sum of collected experiences under your belt and then, Voila! Ready for parenthood! But something was beckoning her to travel and do. After she successfully navigated her first two weeks abroad, she returned home feeling relieved and confident in her decision. She told me, “Sometimes you have to give up something awesome in order to get something awesome.” I keep hearing this in my head over and over again, and I doubt she has any idea what an impact it’s had on me.

Lately I have been trying to stretch myself, dipping my toes into all sorts of unknown waters. In a move that was completely out of my comfort zone (and only at the urging of an amazing friend), I recently auditioned for the show Listen To Your Mother and was accepted! So I had the opportunity to read an original piece aloud in front of an audience of about two-hundred people, which was both terrifying and immensely gratifying. I have never been a part of a cast before, save for a starring role in my 5th grade play, and underestimated how powerful it was going to feel to be up on stage, surrounded by the likes of these incredibly gifted writers. I still get the chills remembering how it felt to clasp hands and take our bow – a mixture of elation, pride, relief and the sense of accomplishment that can only come from taking a huge risk.

As I inch ever closer to 40, I cannot help but dwell in introspection much of the time. I am working very hard to help support my family, saw my husband through a huge career change, am mothering two tiny children to the best of my abilities, am active in my community and generally feel like I balance it all out pretty well. Most days. But there are also times that truthfully I wonder where I am headed, other than into some existential crisis. In an age in which we are expected to do it all, and do it well, I cannot help but wonder if I am truly making a meaningful impact; am I proud of whom I’ve become and does this woman resemble who her younger self had hoped she would be. I feel a certain sense of urgency that I cannot ignore. It has to do with awareness, partially attributed to optimism, a bit to do with responsibility and even more a desire to take care of and improve upon myself so that I can teach my children by example what it means to value yourself and to thoughtfully contribute what you can to the world around you.

But then there is the reality of the day to day. The day job. The endless laundry. The mortgage. And pain. While I never thought I would be thankful for it, there is some irony in this one thing that physically nags me as it attempts to keep me in check. I have an old injury (read fractured neck) that results in a pinched nerve that can debilitate me for days if I don’t pay attention to it, do exercises and stretch regularly – which can seemingly be too time consuming so has become something I rarely carve out a few minutes for routinely. It’s basically like having another dependent, minus any of the joy. I recently saw a physical therapist while in near crisis mode who gently reminded me of how you are supposed to put the oxygen mask on yourself first before you can help others on the proverbial plane. And I should meditate, he said, as if reading my mind’s checklist of the things I should be doing regularly but don’t. I compliantly nodded in agreement, his meaning not lost on me, and thought about my choices. Since giving birth to my son three and a half years ago and my daughter one and a half years ago, exercise is the last thing I’ve prioritized. So what did I do this morning? I decided it was time to go for a run.

I can’t remember the last time I went for a run, this thought like a record on repeat as I plodded along the tow path. Why do people actually like to do this? This is horrible! It’s only been three minutes?! F*@#! Honestly, if I’m going to get an hour to myself early in the morning, I’d rather be drinking coffee reading the Times in peace and quiet. The last time I seriously trained physically as an adult was because I had teammates counting on me to get up and down the soccer field for 90 minutes because we never had any subs. The fact that I can motivate when others are depending on me but cannot seem to when it’s just my own simple health and well being to consider bothers me to the core. And I know I am not alone in this. Women are renowned for being and are unfortunately often expected to be self-sacrificing. I am fully aware of the need to take good care of myself – for longevity and for a better quality of life. But I am also famously good at making excuses.

For starters, I am a little intimidated by the gym. Treadmills have freaked me out ever since I had that epic fall years ago in front of a packed gym, thankfully before the advent of social media. Secondly, I get to spend about two and a half hours a day with my kids during the week due to my work schedule and commute. This breaks my heart and I could not possibly fathom cutting into any of that time to squeeze in a workout. And then there is the practical excuse: “I’ll start running, just as soon as I buy new sneakers!” The ones I have are pretty old and are still caked in puke from my daughter’s recent stomach flu. Throw up or not, there was no way I was going to make up some lame excuse for not hitting the bricks. I did not have child care for the day so took a vacation day to stay home with my two beauties. I had a small window of time before my husband had to leave the house for work, so after this ridiculous amount of deliberation, I ventured out.

Given the first half of the run was laborious, my mind did eventually begin to wander from the tedium of jogging. And it was such a gift. As I ran along the Delaware River, I noticed that my pace was about that of the water flowing south, so without any witnesses, we started to race one another. We were neck and neck, the river and I! I felt like how my son must feel when he doesn’t know anyone is watching him and, dressed in pirate garb, sets off to sail the seven seas. I was like my kidself in the woods and I was so grateful that I put those pukey sneakers on and went outside.

What I love the most about things like running or cross-country skiing is that feeling when you don’t even notice you’ve stopped focusing on the physical skill and finally have a quiet mind. That is until and then I would see a passerby and wonder what they were thinking. Like, “Man, is she sucking wind!” “What terrible form!” But maybe, “Wow, that woman is a runner! Good for her!” I prefer the latter but for now, I will do my best. I’ll give up something awesome, like an hour or two of sleep or that extra kiss from my babies before leaving the house for the day, in order to get something awesome, like good health and better quality (rather than focusing on the quantity) of time with my loved ones. I hope you will come with me on this journey because it is strength in numbers. Let’s together acknowledge what is tripping us up and keep going, keep trying. Share what makes you get up and move. Take someone with you. Let’s prioritize and celebrate our health today.

*Note: I have been enjoying a modicum of success since that first run about a month ago and have a decent amount of runs under my belt, many of which were even on a treadmill and it was not so bad! I rock out to my circa 2005 Nano, do a couple of miles, and with the help of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and Advil when needed, I feel stronger every time. I do it when I can, be it in the middle of my work day or simply when I find myself ruminating over whatever it is that I frequently seem to stumble upon. I have even downloaded some cheesey apps to help me occasionally meditate when I get up in the morning and somehow just found the guts to tell you about it while in the meantime, wearing kicks that indeed do still have puke on them.