Days 7 & 8: Small Victories

I felt crummy yesterday, and just getting through the basics of my day was about all I had energy for. 

Today went (mostly) much better, and I'm thankful for the little things that made it an improvement over Thursday.

My back: I managed to pull it reaching for something while twisting (my guaranteed pain combo--I should know better). I luckily had a very simple dinner planned (see below) so I could spend the evening resting with heat and ice. It was doing better by bedtime, and when I woke I felt fine. I was even able to run today with no problems.

Dinner: Do you sous (vide)?  It sounds so fancy, but it's really just a different way to slow cook. It gives you a great way to cook cheap, lean cuts of meat that dry out easily. It also keeps the flavors from cooking out. Sous vide some carrots. They will be the most intense carrots you've ever eaten. I marinated a pork loin, popped the bag in the water bath, used my phone to turn it on (I'm not usually a big proponent of the Internet of Things but this one is so handy. Find a recipe and press cook!), and put my feet up for a while. I already had some mashed potatoes leftover from an earlier dinner, plus easy peas(y). The leftover meat made a badass Cubano for lunch, too.

Work: I spent the morning banging my head against the wall. I kept getting an error in my code. I went line by line through it and never found a typo or an extra comma. I had to re-type a section, and it worked fine. I have no clue what happened, but at least it worked.

Day 6: Reason

I'll keep today's post short. I'm a firm believer in not writing about something that upset you while you're still upset about it. 

Today was the opposite of Ordinary Tuesday. It actually started with some awesome personal news (that I'll talk about another time. It doesn't feel appropriate right now), then turned sour from frustrations, and then I read the news. There's not much I can say here that hasn't already been said. But I am grateful for everyone who is still acting based upon reason and not fear or paranoia. I'm glad Congress was able to safely evacuate and reconviene. 

I'm going to relax with a book and some wine and just process today. 

 

Day 5: The Ordinary

I thought today might be the day I finally missed a post. I had a pretty good day overall, and not a terribly busy one. We even got a brief visit from a friend who dropped off a Christmas/Birthday present (awesome books!). But in most ways the day was ordinary. Ordinary work tasks. Ordinary before and after school time with my son. Ordinary chicken dinner. Ordinary bedtime routine. 

Pre-pandemic me hated days like this. I thought I needed to be busy. I thought I liked being busy. The latter was a lie I told to avoid fighting with myself about the former. There's nothing wrong with "the same old thing" if that thing is working for you. I underappreciated mine for a long time. I didn't take well to being forced to slow down, both by the pandemic and by my body. But as my husband and I struggled to manage working home and caring for a young child simultaneously, I learned to appreciate a routine. I finally learned how to relax properly in those ordinary moments. 

There is calm in the ordinary. Our son behaves better (usually) when he knows what to expect. I'm not stressed at work on higher pain or fatigue days because I'm comfortable with what I need to accomplish. I bake a chicken every other week because it's inexpensive, needs only 15 minutes of hands-on time, and I can usually get 3 meals out of it. My husband and I do yoga together nearly every evening after our son goes to sleep, allowing us to connect better to ourselves and with each other. Sometimes making choices is too much, and with a solid routine in place, I can safely let that stressor go.

My son gets really excited by the idea of new toys, but gets worn out quickly with too many choices. I'm no different. Newness is fun in small amounts, but it soon begins to overwhelm with its volume and disappoint with its brevity. My ordinary, routine days are like an old fuzzy teddy bear missing an eye but cherished and hugged nonetheless. 

Day 4: Work

I returned to work today after our two week winter break (one of the many perks of working in education!). I focused on getting myself organized because I'm taking over some new responsibilities from an employee who left, and because I have not thought about work at all for the last two weeks. What the hell was I doing? Oh, right.

I haven't always had the healthiest relationship with work. I struggled for a long time with the "What do you you want to be when you grow up?" question. I've always been drawn to creative pursuits (writing, music, theatre, architecture). Unfortunately, I also believed the myths that "I needed a real job" and "only the lucky few make it in the arts". I excelled in math and science in school, so a scientific career made sense on paper. My heart was never in it, though. I believed I was supposed to pursue a career, and a career required passion. Otherwise, it was just a job.

I don't remember when the impostor syndrome first hit me. It might have been early on, the first time I thought I was pretty good but not that good at writing or singing or whatever. Maybe it started while working my ass off for a B- in some of my college courses, and I thought I'd never make it because the concepts weren't intuitive for me. When it hit, it flattened me. I only sang to myself, or in the safety of a choir, or under the influence of alcohol. I kept my words to myself. I made excuses not to participate in hobbies I loved. I even earned my masters in education and briefly taught middle and high school because I honestly believed I would not get into a graduate program in applied mathematics, and teaching was my only option. Teaching wasn't a great fit for me, and I burned out after a year and a half feeling anxious and lost.

I applied to work for the community college in 2012 purely out of need for a job. I didn't really know what to expect in the position. What I found there changed my perspective on work and career, and for that I am forever thankful.

What I found was a staff excited to serve the students. Employees are trusted, not micromanaged.  New ideas are encouraged and explored. Achievements, big and small, are celebrated. Opportunities are created to allow employees to showcase their talents. Professional development is prioritized. Competing priorities are handled respectfully and logically with minimal politics. When I am off work, I get to fully disconnect unless there is a true emergency (which is quite rare). 

I left the college in 2018 to pursue a leadership opportunity at my alma mater, but I ended up returning to the community college a year later. I left the leadership role for a few reasons, but I came back to the college for just one: because they treated me like family. Just like I love my running team, I love my work team, too. We have each other on hard days and through challenging situations. We are all different, and we each bring our own style and strengths. Working in graduation, we are especially rewarded by the privilege of helping students realize and celebrate the accomplishment of their goals.

Do I want to be a business analyst when I grow up? I have no idea. I still dream of being a writer and a singer. I HGTV the shit out of my house. But I could see spending a large portion of my working years with my current department because my responsibilities are challenging and satisfying, because my colleagues are great to work with, and because my leadership believes is me.

Whether or not it's accurate, I still define a career as a profession that you've allowed to define you in some way. It's ok to have a job and keep that separation. I have a really great one, and I feel so much less stress than I did in pursuit of a career. 

 

Day 3: Playdates

Parenting young children is hard. Parenting young children during a pandemic? That's a lonely new adventure. We find ourselves cut off from the supports we used to rely upon. No babysitters. Sporatic preschool (ours was closed all of November due to COVID cases, and we quarantined for a full 2 weeks). Infrequent, careful interactions with only our closest family and friends. Skype calls with the grandparents that last about 2 minutes before our kid decides he wants to do something else.

Today we got to enjoy a real, live playdate, and it was glorious.

My son got a stomp rocket for his birthday from his aunt and uncle, and he wanted to share it with his best friend. His BFF's parents happen to be some our our closest friends also, so a playdate is a big deal for all of us! The weather was warm (for January) and everyone was healthy, so we masked up and enjoyed some outdoor social time. 

The kids are finally old enough to play with each other without needing much intervention from the parents (and are good about wearing their masks), so we adults were able to catch up with each other and de-stress also. Everyone needs a playdate sometimes. We usually call them game nights because we're grown-ups, but we all know there's no difference. 

By the end of the afternoon, the boys were worn out and the parents were recharged. It was exactly the kind of day we all needed before diving back into the work & preschool routine. My husband commented that this "winter break" didn't feel like a break from much except the occasional Zoom meeting. We were both concerned that we would be more tired than normal this first week back at work because we didn't rest very well. After today, I think we will be just fine.

Day 2: The Learning Process

I did not plan on posting at the very end of the day. It took most of the day to choose a topic. On Day 2. My normal reactions would be 1) to call myself a failure, 2) to get frustrated for taking on too difficult of a challenge once again, and 3) call myself selfish for not meeting artifical, Instagram-worthy standards of exuberant gratitude, joy, and quoteworthiness. How dare you feel negative feelings, you bitch! The world expects you to be a humble servant robot, not a bold, honest human. 

Those of you who have read Burnout may recognize this as my Madwoman struggling with Human Giver Syndrome. 

Fortunately, I didn't do that this time. This week reminded me that learning new skills can be painful, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try. 

My son has finally mostly gotten the hang of jump roping. On the afternoon of New Years Eve, he tripped on the rope and faceplanted hard, biting his lip on the impact. We spent the rest of afternoon at the urgent care and the dentist making sure everything was ok. My son's dentist (who is awesome and a mom of two little ones) reassured me that not only are injuries like this common for kids, but they also heal quite quickly. It's so hard as a parent to watch your child be in pain. Some days I feel like I need to suit him in bubble wrap. But if I cushion all of his falls, he will never learn to do it gracefully. I will still encourage him to walk with purpose through life rather than parkour wildly across it. Ultimately, the choice is his to make. 

I understand that some days during this challenge I will fall. I will have days that I rush through, days when I take things for granted because I just need to get through it, days when my stress and I shut ourselves off from others so we don't lash out at anyone. On those days I might write shitty, contrived posts because gratitude isn't the sentiment at the front of my mind. Those days will be ok. I'm learning, aren't I? My ego is going to have a fat lip and will need to a humble soup diet sometimes. It will heal. Our children learn from our actions much more than they do from our words. If I want my child to embrace mistakes and failures and falls as learning experiences, then I must show him what that looks like. 

My son was excited to jump rope again the next day. So what happens? He times his jump poorly and lands on the rope. The handle flies out of his hand and smacks him near his eye. He's fine, but we've put the jump rope away, just for a little while. Breaks are healthy, too. 

That said, if I need a break, I will take one and make it up the next day. 

I still feel awful that my kid got hurt, but I am thankful that we both learned more about how to learn. 

Day 1: My Running Community

I realize that welcoming the New Year with an hour-long run sounds far from fun for most people. For me, it's about as peaceful and strong of a start to 2021 as I could ask for. 

"But Sam," you say, "This space exists to explore and expand your connections to others. Why are you writing about binge watching The Repair Shop alone on the treadmill?"

I'm writing about running because I never expected an individual sport to welcome me into such an uplifting community for which I am forever grateful. 

I played on my varsity tennis "team" in high school. Twelve of us competed against each other frequently for nine tournament slots. Playing doubles rather than singles in a tournament was a punishment--an attitude that kept us from ever playing doubles as true partnerships. The moment I knew we weren't actually a team happened when #8 me defeated our #2 player in a challenge match. She felt off that day, but also I played my heart out. After the match, she was still #2 and I was still #8. Our coach berated her for playing terribly, and never said anything about my strong performance. Neither of us deserved our treatment, and we both left practice too upset to say anything. 

After training for my first 10K race on my own in 2018, I joined USA Fit Albuquerque seeking coaching for a half-marathon. I attended my first group run with my tennis experience in my back pocket. Fortunately I abandoned that definition of a team somewhere around mile 2 of the Bosque trail. USA Fit Albuquerque has over 100 members, from people who have not yet run a mile without walking to Boston Marathon qualifiers. The club does an incredible job of making everyone feel like their personal goals are valuable and achievable. They joke about being a social club with a running problem, except I wouldn't call the running a problem! They understand that the point is the community they build through their sport, not the activity itself. We aren't elite athletes; the only people we are competing against on the racecourse are ourselves. Everyone else is a teammate. 

When my pace coach says, "I know your legs are burning, but you can finish strong," I believe her. When we get brunch after a long run, no one judges me for going out with my flushed face and sweat-drenched shirt (because we're all that gross, together. Thank you to the servers and the patrons around us for tolerating our post-run state!). When my teammates who finished before me wait at the finish line to cheer me across, I sprint like I haven't just run 13 miles. And I stay to cheer on the rest of the finishers. Say what you will about social media, but I've been thankful to connect with my team via the Strava app during the pandemic. We aren't able to safely run as a club, but we can still cheer each other on virtually. We provide each other accountability without pressure. 

I've never made friends easily, and I've treated relationships as self-serving more often than I like to admit. Joining a running club introduced me to a different but meaningful type of friendship. Runners are a diverse group, but the joy we derive from our sport unites us. I'm not extremely close to anyone in the group (yet?), but the time I spend with my running friends nourishes me, as I believe it does for them also. I used to believe a friend was someone I could talk to when I had a problem. That's what a good therapist is for. A friend is someone I can listen to with my full attention. 1-2 hours on the trail each Saturday morning provides a great opportunity to practice your listening skills. A friend will listen to you, too, but they shouldn't feel obligated to have any answers--only love. 

You don't have to run, but I do encourage you, if you don't already have one, to find a community for an activity you enjoy. maybe even try something new. You may find yourself surprised and forever changed by the experience. 

Day 0: Introduction

This project, "Sam's Year of Gratitude," addreses two of my goals for 2021. The first of these goals is to hone my writing craft. Not only do I need to write more, but also I need to challenge myself and welcome some discomfort into the process. I hate daily journaling, and this blog is essentially that. The structure should (I hope) allow me to focus in a way that standard journaling doesn't. It also should help with my second goal, which is improving my stress management. 

I just finished Amelia and Emily Nagoski's powerful book Burnout: the Secret to Unlocking the Stress Cycle. The authors include a section on expressing gratitude as a way to relieve stress. While the idea isn't revolutionary, their explanation of its benefits resonated strongly with my pandemic-weary heart. The key, they write, is the connection that expressing gratitude creates between people. Their definition of gratitude is less about material posessions and more about moments that move us and the people who participate in them. I could keep a journal of of "Things I'm Thankful For", but if no one ever read it, then what purpose would it serve?

Right now we need to connect with others more than ever. This is not simply because we are physically separated from friends and family. On a global scale, our empathy for others and willingness to change our lives in the name of a greater good will save lives. 

2020 is finally over, and I've got a whole year's worth (if not more) people to thank for helping me through it.