There’s a trend on twitter right now that got me thinking. #10yearsago — what was happening in your life 10 years ago?
The first thing I tweeted was: #10yearsago I had never run a mile in my life, couldn’t hike uphill w/o taking a rest every 5 mins & sanitas too 3 hrs to complete.
Then I remembered that I thought climbing was crazy and had sworn I’d never do it.
So I thought it would be a fun exercise to look back at 1999 and think about where I was and what I was doing in 1999 and into 2000.
10 years ago:
- I thought swimming 15 laps in a pool was a good workout.
- I didn’t like seafood. Or spicy food. Or interesting food. Or any food that wasn’t a carb or meat.
- I was living with a boyfriend that wasn’t incredibly healthy for me (or him).
- I was singing with the Colorado Symphony Orchestra Chorus.
- I was working at a nursing home (as an Activity Director), burning out as a music therapist.
- I got winded hiking up a trail and usually stopped every 5 minutes to rest.
- I thought digital cameras produced inferior quality images and didn’t see the point of owning one.
- I drove a Dodge Neon.
- I didn’t know trail running was a sport.
- I didn’t know much about the sport of climbing and thought “those people” were crazy.
- I enjoyed snowboarding on greens and easy blue runs a few times a year.
- I sewed a lot of crafts and things.
- I was living in Littleton.
- I didn’t know what perseverance felt like.
What I didn’t know 10 years ago:
- That fresh sushi is about the best food in the world.
- That climbing up a mountain was exhilarating and freeing. And that I could do it.
- That my body was capable of developing muscles.
- That my body was capable of running. At all, much less long distances.
- That I would be competing in triathlons, marathons, trail runs and loving it.
- That I would work in corporate America and go on business trips that involved good meals and a passport.
- That I would meet amazing people who would teach me about true friendship, trust, support and total and full acceptance of who I am.
- That I would meet, befriend and fall in love and marry an amazing man.
- That I would climb 16 14ers and run up one of them (three times!).
- That I would learn what a harness and carabiner were and then use them on real rock.
- That I would fall in love with running and climbing so deeply.
- That I would find a passion and turn it into a career that involved the outdoors, fitness and helping others learn and find that passion.
- That food tastes really good with heat and spice added in.
I think the biggest thing I didn’t know in 1999 was that I was an athlete. I ran for the first time in March of 2000. Thinking back on all that I’ve experienced, tried, and accomplished in the world of sport and outdoor activity over the past 10 years I’m pretty amazed I fit it all in.
The journey and discovery of that hidden strength opened up so many other doors and perspectives for my world.
I anticipate the next 10 years will open up and reveal even more. I’m ready.
Where were you 10 years ago? What’s changed? What surprised you? What’s coming next?
my annual rite of passage
I have begun the annual ritual of assessing the past year and looking toward the upcoming one in anticipation of what’s ahead. I always enjoy rereading what my annual goals were for the previous year (you can read my goals for this blog here, and my overall 2009 goals here). By the end of 2008, I knew that 2009 would be a big year.
Along with a few specific goals I set for myself (like flossing my teeth and eating my vegetables… both of which, I’m happy to report, saw an increase in activity throughout 2009), each December I think about a word or two that encompasses what the year ahead means to me.
2008 was a year of risk and wonder. 2009 was a year of creating possibility and abundance. As I write this post, my 2010 words are rising to the surface.
my writing goals for amelia carolyn
I realized when reading about the goals I’d set for my blog, I didn’t take my own advice. I didn’t revisit my goals and take time to reassess and revise them. And this December, I’m in a similar place with my writing and blogging goals as I was last December. I have made small steps, but none big enough to allow me to say, “I’ve met my goal.”
I haven’t achieved the frequency or discipline in my writing or posting that I’d set out for myself. And I know that had I read my goals again throughout the year, I would have made some changes. I might have made them a little more realistic considering the life changes I embarked on in 2009. I may have laid out smaller steps.
Writing is a huge part of my life and my dreams. I love the process and clarity I get when I write. And there have been small advances towards my stated goals to blog more and to write with more discipline (and less of writing only “as the mood strikes”). But I have work to do.
Luckily, I don’t believe 2009 was the only pocket of time where that particular goal could thrive. 2009 was a busy year. Lots of pretty big life changes happened in 2009 that took time and energy. In 2010, my writing will become more defined and frequent. I will have more purpose and more substance to my thoughts and posts.
So what took up so much of my energy and focus in 2009, you ask?
what a year!
Here’s a recap of my 2009 experiences:
I got married. July 25 was a fairy-tale day. The weekend filled with family and friends from all over the country was a magical weekend. The 11 months of planning that went into that weekend was exciting, challenging and filled with emotion.
crested butte, co
I ran. A lot. My running season was unexpectedly amazing and awesome. I entered and completed two ultra marathons. The Moab Red Hot 50+K and the Collegiate Peaks 50 miler. I also ran my best Pike’s Peak Marathon three weeks after the wedding and enjoyed a few other fun and challenging trail runs (the Golden Gate Dirty Thirty in June, the Gothic Crested Butte Third Marathon and the Barr Trail Mountain Race in July).
moab red hot 50k+
collegiate peaks 50 mile trail run
pike's peak marathon
I moved to a new state, into a new home, with my new husband. In September I sold my car and began packing. At the beginning of October, we moved all our furniture and most of our possessions into storage. Then Bracken and I moved to the island of Kaua’i, in Hawaii. We have been housed by the generosity of amazing friends and are still adjusting to the experience of reality in paradise.
polihale state park, kaua'i
sea turtle in poipu, kaua'i
sunset at hanalei bay, kaua'i
I embarked on a journey toward a new career and subsequent new business. In September, I became a student at the International Coach Academy, based in Melbourne, Australia. I will graduate in 2010 with a Professional Coaching Certification. I will be a life coach working in the outdoor and fitness industry helping others integrate fitness and sport into their lives. I plan on concentrating on “late-bloomers” like me who are new to sports and fitness and need education and motivation on how to get started and what to expect throughout the journey. (Stay tuned for more information coming in 2010.)
I played. I summited two 14ers (Antero for my annual birthday climb) and Pike’s Peak. I climbed. I bouldered. I ran. I bought a mountain bike and began to learn. I took up surfing. I began a yoga journey (going six times a week).
looking towards the summit of mt. antero
my new mountain bike on the 401 in crested butte
my new surfboard
I began to explore the kitchen. I enjoyed a few cooking lessons. I shopped at the Farmer’s Market. I observed and participated in the cooking process. I plan to write more on this, but for me, enjoying nutrition and preparing meals is a foreign, enticing concept.
an abundance of possibility
Has 2009 truly been a year of possibility and abundance? Definitely. I didn’t make a lot of money as I’d hoped, but I began to build a solid foundation for a new career. The abundance came in the form of love. Of community. Of grace and compassion (from others, mind you… I’m still working on that ‘have compassion for yourself’ mantra). An abundance of experiences, of emotion, of newness.
Possibility seems harder to pin down. Yet it feels like the possibilities presented to me, and the experiences I’ve had this past year, have themselves, been abundant: surprising myself at the Pike’s Peak marathon and placing in my age group; moving to a small island in the middle of the Pacific, miles from anything familiar; exploring a new career and life calling; writing on a variety of topics and experiences.
Life feels wide open in front of me. And maybe that’s what possibility looks like. Vast and open and free.
a year of promise
2010 promises to be a full year. The words that come to mind when I think of all that’s on the horizon for me are words like: grounding. integration. expansion. maybe this is the year for compassion? emergence. discovery. motion.
What’s in store for me? What do I have planned? Lots of goodness and awesome. As much as 2009 was a year of new things and beginnings, it was also a year of building foundations. It was a year where I consciously and deliberately worked to set up a foundation that will support big things to come. Those things may appear in 2010, or 2046. I just don’t know, but I’m building and I’m creating and I’m nurturing my world for my present and my future.
In 2010 my marriage will still be new. We will be exploring the newness and integrating each other deeper into our lives, becoming stronger partners in this life together. We’ll spend time building the framework for our future; our communication; our finances; our habits and preferences. We’ll be sharing our love through the ordinary and mundane, as well as the awesome and magnificent. Or maybe it’s more like we’ll learn to recognize the magnificence hidden in the ordinary. Solidifying our union to stay strong and sure through the many changes and journeys that are ahead of us as individuals and together.
In 2010 my company will launch. And with that, I dream of introducing others (and creating within them) a life-long love affair with the outdoors. I plan on learning a lot more. I plan on putting myself out there and introducing myself to others so they know who I am, and what my mission and goals are (and hopefully by that, I can reach even more people).
In 2010 we plan to return to the mainland, with a good bit of surfing under our belts, to embark on a year-long road trip around the U.S. to climb, mountain bike and run through our country’s celebrated and hidden gems.
In 2010 I want to surf tougher, climb stronger, run longer and bike with enthusiasm (with a little bit of badass thrown in to the mix).
I want to write. A lot. (In my journal; for my personal blog; for my professional blog.) I want to write a book or two (maybe just a short one to begin).
I want to smile more often and connect deeper. I want to love generously, with compassion and grace. I want to walk in confidence and recognize my strengths and gifts, sharing them with the world.
So my words for 2010? Integration and joy seem to resonate with my insides.
Integrating my marriage, my home-within-myself, and my new career into my future. Consolidating my thoughts and ideas onto paper and out into the world. Merging my passion for the outdoors into a career that inspires and motivates others to fall in love with nature.
Joy for the energy and momentum I’m experiencing in my life. Happiness in the simple and humble. Exhilaration in the challenges and transitions ahead. And a childlike exuberance for the travel adventure I’ve dreamed of for many years.
I raise a toast to 2010: A year of integration and joy. Cheers!
I realized something recently. Maybe it’s something y’all have known. Maybe this isn’t new. But maybe it’s something that bears repeating.
Action does not need to be physical.
I am an active woman. I enjoy moving. I enjoy the physicality of being in the world. I enjoy touching and feeling things as I learn about them. I have to do to really feel I understand. I love the feeling of my heart racing after a good workout. I love the feeling of joy when my body moves with grace and precision.
But for me—and this is what I’ve realized—sometimes the mental work I do is just (if not more?) important.
The past couple of weeks I’ve been feeling pretty overwhelmed, displaced and missing the familiarity of Colorado (despite the frigid temps I’ve been hearing about). Yoga has been feeling more and more of an obligation. Surfing was creating anxiety and I found myself questioning “why?”
Why do I want to surf? What’s so cool about it? It’s hard. I suck. It’s cold and getting colder. Why did I commit to six days a week of Bikram yoga? My body hurts. It’s in the middle of the day.
I struggled and fought with myself for days. I made myself go to yoga. I went to the beach and cried when my friends went out in the waves and I stayed back, feeling like a complete wimp and failure.
So I stopped. I skipped yoga one day. I stayed home and worked all day. I didn’t go surfing. I read and napped on the beach. I journaled about my confusion, trying to understand the contradicting voices in my head: “i love surfing”; “i don’t want to go into the water to surf.”
I filled pages in my journal. I explored the questions swirling around in the morass that can be my brain when I get overwhelmed.
I stopped doing. I skipped yoga again two days this week. I went to the beach and absolutely loved watching my friends surf. And through the journaling, watching my friends, and reconnecting to the water mentally, I realized that my love of the sport of surfing hadn’t died (whew!). I do want to put forth the effort required to do it well. (Or, since the learning curve is so exasperatingly slow, somewhat competently.) I do want to be in the water, tumbling into waves lost and finding my balance as the wave moves under me.
I think if I’d continued to force myself to “just get out there and do it”; or pushed myself to keep up my yoga streak of six days a week, I’d be so worn down that none of it would be fun anymore. And I believe in fun. I believe in the power of the connection between our minds and our bodies. It’s a powerful connection that can hide itself if we’re not aware.
If we’re not aligned, we lose sight of the fun. We lose sight of our motivation and our purpose in the doing. Doing for doing’s sake gets boring and exhausting.
So my realization tonight, as I think about my morning yoga class and my late afternoon surf session, is that my break was needed. Mental action is often vital to keeping our love of physical action balanced and in check. In fact, I may go so far as to say that breaks are not only needed, but essential.
I am smiling tonight and feeling worked. My back hurts. My legs and arms are feeling jelly-like and I am smiling and feeling good.
