Thank you, husband.
Patrick spent the past week gently nudging me up from the place I was — feeling overwhelmed by all the changes I need and want to make — to a place where I feel like I can tackle them little bit by bit. And then he sent me this quote yesterday. “I love this,” he said. I do to …
“Do not wait: the time will never be ‘just right’. Start where you stand, and work whatever tools you may have at your command and better tools will be found as you go along.”
From Napolean Hill
So after my grand return to my blog last week, it still took several days before I actually kicked things into action. Really, it started when Patrick suggested we ride our bikes to the farmers market Saturday morning. How could I say no? So I said yes.
And can I tell you what power there is in saying yes to something that’s good for you? Even when maybe you’re still feeling a little obstinately attached to the idea that life is too hard to make good things happen? So powerful. Even better is when that good thing includes the biggest hill you’ve climbed in six months and it takes you five minutes to reach the top (where your husband — on his single-speed bike loaded with panniers, no less — is patiently and happily waiting for you).
“Do not wait”
So, it was a good Saturday. Followed by a good Sunday. Followed by starting the week out wide awake, ready to clean dishes. Ready to run a mile (maybe it wasn’t the four miles I ran during my last go, but I was running … “start where you stand”). Ready to finish up little house-cleaning projects and find a 10K to run (the Salem Lake Trail Run — it’s even seven whole miles!). To order some sewing tools I realized will help when I finally sew my apron (a rotary cutter and self-healing board!). To eat sensibly (it’s a no-sugar week for me; I’m looking forward to how good I’ll feel in just seven days).
Wanna see what it looks like? When I come back to life?
I ran. Damnit. I RAN.
Half a sandwich. It was enough.
There is nothing like starting out the day with a clean sink and empty counter.
My husband made me slow-cooked, steel-cut oats. While I slowly, slowly woke up. Coffee, too. He’s that way. I love him for it.
More running. Because I can.
Riding my bike to work. Me and that bike — slowly rekindling our romance.