A Minute Saved

Posted on February 8, 2015 by Sandra S. McRae

You know the old adage A penny saved is a penny earned? This is true about minutes as well.

I’m thinking of this because I often spend my days rushing around wishing I had more time. More time to write, more time to work out, more time to play, etc. I also spend a lot of time sitting around thinking all these things. You know, like when you’re too tired to get up and go to bed, you waste time thinking about how exhausted you are instead of getting off the damn couch and going to bed? Stupid!

But this truth is going to set me free: A minute saved is a minute earned.

More often than not, the reason I waste time is likely because I’m burnt out and exhausted (mentally if not physically), and so my brain just stops on the side of the road like a worn-out cart horse and refuses to budge. But if I don’t start paying attention to what’s really going on, how will anything change?

It starts with me. I have decided to approach this problem in a new way.

My usual way to correct a bad habit is to beat myself up, to mentally harangue my frazzled self with a silent stream of internal admonishment when I catch myself messing up. It works about as well as you’d expect.

This time I am going to just simply observe how and when I stall out and go to the test pattern on the screen of life. Just observe. That way I can take notes on what’s really going on: Am I exhausted? Secretly resentful? What am I avoiding? What do I need? What’s missing or in the way?

Just observe. For a week. Then I can begin to reflect. The eventual goal here is to get a grip. But I need to be more of a therapist/coach/friend to myself than a nag. Let’s get to the bottom of this.

I’ll let you know how it goes. And here is step one: Leaving this post open-ended, without a big red bow at the end to tie it all up for you, dear reader.

It’s making me a little uncomfortable already. Oh well.

 

Posted in creative process, time management | 2 Comments

Run Like a Banshee

Posted on November 9, 2014 by Sandra S. McRae

When we last saw our heroine, she was running…and running and running. Here’s what she learned along the way.

5 Things Running Taught Me

Don’t complain. Some people spend their entire lives in wheelchairs or hospitals. They would love to be able to whine about how they “have” to run in the rain/wind/snow/heat. Get over yourself.

Don’t brag. There is always someone who can’t run as far as you, but also always someone who can run farther, faster, more gracefully.

Enjoy it. I used to ask my running group, So when does this Runner’s High I’m always hearing about kick in? And they would laugh at me. Loudly. Like I was trying to be funny. I confess, I rarely felt that surge of renewed energy, and it never lasted (dammit). Now I think of Runner’s High as embracing your commitment and letting go of expectations. Well, I’m out here for the long haul, I may as well enjoy myself. And then you do! The sky so blue overhead…or some gorgeous marbled grey. The sun came up today! Yay! Imagine if it didn’t! See, always something to be grateful for. The high is also about the trail, which is in constant dialogue with your body. The trail is a straight shooter, my friend. It does not dole out flattery. But it when you’re done, you appreciate that the trail makes you earn it.

You need a Big Why. Running is like any challenge in life: When it gets long and boring or steep and tough, you need high-octane sustenance, a reason to hang on. Why are you here, on this trail, at this moment? If you can’t answer that, your feet/knees/lungs will. The one with the better answer wins.

Whoop it up! One day, on a very steep stretch, when the road refused to flatten out for me, I just let out a Charlie Brown-style “Aaaarg!” while running. Then another, louder one. It gave me energy. It validated me. What I was doing was hard, and I was not going to take it silently. I worked—I crested the hill and shot over the top. Now I just holler whenever I’m running and losing steam. Why not? Weightlifters do it in competitions all the time. But more importantly, I holler when I’m having fun. I holler when I’m in the zone and the road is just flying under my feet. I run like a Banshee, wailing on the uphill, kindergartener-crazy with joy on the downhill. Why not? Running is a full-throttle engagement. You might as well let the universe know what you’re up to. Run like a banshee and make some righteous noise!

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The Power of Ludicrous Thinking

Posted on October 28, 2013 by Sandra S. McRae

Well, I ran that half-marathon and I really enjoyed it. Some miles were more fun than others, but it was a gorgeous day and a perfect trail—and we got to do two water crossings, which were so fun! Splashing across a creek in your running shoes and then taking off for 10 miles is something everyone should try. Ok, maybe you run with tiny pebbles in your socks, but so what? Life is short and you’re tougher than you think. Lace up!

Turns out, I will run at lest 13.5 miles for a beer! (Yeah, I know a half is only 13.1, but because of historic floods in Colorado the week before the race, they had to reroute the course and it got longer. Oh yeah, and then there was that embarrassing wrong turn we all took....

Turns out, I will run at least 13.5 miles for a beer! (Yeah, I know a half is only 13.1, but because of historic floods in Colorado the week before the race, they had to reroute the course and it got longer. Oh yeah, and then there was that embarrassing wrong turn we all took….)

Over the course of the summer training, I discovered that I still love running. (Especially flats and downhills!) Of course, I did not always profess that love while in fact running. What I actually said was something much more cryptic, such as…“I hate running!”

But I love to say I ran.

Now, my personal motto is “If it ain’t fun, I ain’t doing it.” Ok, running isn’t always fun, so you have to make it fun. One trick I learned is the Power of Ludicrous Thinking. Big, bold, sky’s-the-limit thinking. For example, maybe I’m running and if I stop, a million sweet, innocent puppies will get yelled at. Or if I just keep at it, my fat will shrink and I’ll have the super sleek, totally defined thigh muscles I’ve always dreamed of. You know, crazy stuff.

Given that I ran every single training mile plus a few more, without injury, obviously I was doing something right. Having a coach for the first time in my life was a big plus. I’m still running long, slow distances, and now, without the pressure of a deadline or a race, it’s even more fun than before.

First, though, I had to get started after several months of being sedentary. There were days I felt like I was crawling up the mountain where I live. See, the first mile out my front door is straight up, a 405-foot elevation gain. The second mile adds another 200+. In the beginning, I mostly felt like a loser running up that first mile, which I have fondly nicknamed “Bitch Hill.”

Check out the bib number. My first thought: It figures. My second thought? Guess I'm gonna have to run like the DEVIL!

Check out the bib number. My first thought: It figures. My second thought? Guess I’m gonna have to run like the DEVIL!

Mind you, I have run Bitch Hill for years. Years! And it still kicks my butt—if I haven’t eaten right, slept enough, made a small blood sacrifice to it appease its malevolent spirit, or if I just start too fast. So I one day (about the third day out), I had had enough. I decided I was not going to stop until I made Bitch Hill MY bitch.

It took a couple weeks. I’d start too fast. It was too steep. I was a wimp. It was pure evil. Whatever the reason, I’d end up having to walk for about 20 yards near the top. Then I’d run…out of oxygen, and have to walk a stretch again. Are the neighbors watching? I’d worry. And maybe (I’m not saying either way) there was some drooling and altogether undignified moments of self-doubt, self-pity, and general whining. Dammit!

Then one day I decided to run along the right side of the road, the upslope side, where I could better distinguish the many plants along the road. There are hundreds to name as I run. I named all of them. Then I started naming them backwards. Anything to keep from thinking about what I was actually doing with my legs and lungs. Before I knew it, I had conquered Bitch Hill.

Now, when I’m driving home and gazing up at my mountain, I can see the most wicked stretch of Bitch Hill high, high above the highway, and I think, I run that. And I can see myself up there in my turquoise hat and sassy running shorts, plodding along, but not stopping. And when I get home and lace up, I see can myself from that highway angle, slowly making my way up the mountain, and I think, I’d better keep going. Those people in their cars, who’ve been sitting for hours, are looking up right now and wondering, Who is that amazing woman? And why am I sitting in my car, zipping past all this nature? Why am I not out in it? Why don’t I run? Look, look how fun it is!

And then I don’t feel so tired. Imagine that.

Next up: Run Like a Banshee.

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