Category Archives: Endurance

Procrastination is A Beautiful Letdown


When I procrastinate–as I am currently doing by updating my blog–it’s a letdown.

I get into this anxiety-inducing coma of thoughts… my fearful thoughts envelop me, cause me to come dangerously close to nervous breakdown territory, and then create enough freaked out momentum to propel me through my procrastination haze with great torrents of gusto and enthusiasm.  This period of time is usually birthed out of great encouragement from my friends, husband, and to-do-list.. all cheering me “ONWARD!  You can do this!  Do it… Don’t stop now.. you’re so close!”  Through their prodding and enticing words, I look at my tasks ahead and decide that the night before is just as good a time as any to begin.

(Brief interlude: Why do I do this to myself, you may ask?  Well–friend, the fact is this… it does produce results.  Procrastination works for both my husband and I.. occasionally helping, with God’s grace, to make exceptional pieces of work that may not have been created otherwise–there is so much tension, so much last minute energy, that we work very hard in a short amount of time.  If we planned things out to a T, and did things before hand, it just wouldn’t be so exciting.  I think that’s the only good explanation for why we seem to habitually fall into this mode of operation.  I’m not condoning it.. just saying that it is one way to get things accomplished.  However, we go through great amounts of unnecessary stress, frustration, and sometimes get ourselves in a bind because of it. )

So at this stage of the game, when I’m finally pushed into overdrive, I am in a frenzy.  My mind goes through different periods of a totally on guard, awake, hyper-drive mode… then switches to a black out mode where I seem to misplace everything, turn the wrong burner on while cooking… and talk to my husband in half-sentences that he must work to decipher.  Most likely because I am thinking of all the crap I haven’t done, that I must do, and don’t have my mind on the things that I am currently trying to do. Not a delightful place to be.

As the semester closes, I am so ready to be done I can taste it.  I have one final tomorrow (a devilishly difficult one.. seems as though our prof has given us a curve ball exam, and I hardly recognize the study guide as material we learned!) and a presentation of my portfolio (which I should take pride in, as its a representation of my whole career as an undergrad) and that’s IT!

The story with my portfolio is this: It includes so many components of my life, my coursework, my passions, that it is something I should be able to love–easily.  The upside: I began it about a month ago, to get ahead of the curve.  The downside: I am just now sitting down to complete it (before tomorrow).  Oopsies.  Well, I have all of this built up fear, all of this anxiety about not having finished it yet… and I sit down to make myself do it.

I dawdle a bit.  Then I open up the files to work on them, get on the livetext website I am using to present it.. and what do I realize?  Goodness, the end is not nearly so far as I had imagined.  My project has fewer dilemmas to work out, less problematic aspects, and more fun to it than I realized!  This happens often with the things in life I MUST to do.  As I procrastinate… my fear of working on a project increases.  It expands and warps until suddenly, my once small and doable task has turned into a terrible creature that I cannot recognize.

I do this to myself.  And, I can say, it has gotten better.  The more often I’ve done it, the more I can see this pattern of imagining things as far worse than they truly are… and realizing I’ve done that.  Realizing I’ve created a monster that doesn’t exist.  I have freaked myself out and procrastinated, when it’s really not all that bad.

Ha.

So… this putting things off habit–which I don’t do all the time, but usually do when I feel like I can’t complete something properly, can be a beautiful letdown.  Yes, indeed, there is hope for us all.  A wonderful disappointment.  Because though I have done it again, I have come a little bit closer to working with myself and understanding myself.

Aren’t we amusing creatures?

Okey dokey smokey.  I must get down to business.

Thanks for letting me procrastinate just a bit more.

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I’m Not A Runner, But…


Though I don’t currently count myself a runner, I would be lying if I said that I don’t deeply admire them.  There’s something about the brute endurance and animalistic ability to take the punches as they come.  To me, it is simultaneously inspiring and nauseating to see a person going out, digging in their heels, and tackling a marathon.  It draws me in, with this mixture of love-hate, and makes me wonder if I can push myself that hard.

I have to give you a bit of historical background about myself before discussing my renewed interest in the cult sport:  I was “That One Girl…” during all of middle school, and some of high school (I was exempted my freshman year from P.E. on account of academic and musical pursuits).  By that, I mean, I was the girl everyone wondered about, hobbling along towards the nurses’ office, one friend on each side propping me up comically.  I was the girl who had to be taken to the hospital for some mysterious reason or another.  I was never on sports teams, and one of my “bucket list” items is to join a team one day (even a non-competitive one)… against all fear and trembling.  I am simply unathletic.  I don’t call myself this because I am uncoordinated, out of shape, or anything else.  I just have a way of being a klutz when there are people watching me and expecting me to perform to standard.

My athletic life journey is usually a solo one:  I do Yoga.  I’m a fine swimmer.  I have been trained classically on the piano, and even took riding lessons as a child.  (I was also a girlscout for awhile, does that count for anything?)  But as for athletic endurance, I’m about as fit for fighting as a macaroni noodle.  I had Pneumonia when I was very little, as well, so when I run I secretly wonder if my lungs have a disability.  But… all that said, I think that making myself try to masquerade as a runner, whatever that means in my own macaroni-noodle-like way, would build oodles of character and provide a great outlet for steam.

All of that to say– I’m not a runner, but I’d like to be.  In a dramatic effort to increase the chances of my “stick-to-it” abilities, I bought a new pair of running shoes that suit my feet.  Running has always been a painful process for my body, I feel more painful than most, and I know that having the right shoes makes the difference.  After getting my new shoes, my heart was filled with excitement: wanting to see how far I could push this body that God created beautifully, wanting to appreciate my pounding heart & healthy legs.  Excited to begin this push towards going over the line, but just barely.  I’d like to be able to do 5K’s for a cause, and push myself with new limits.  It’s interesting to see how far you can push your mind over matter.  Though I’ve always wanted to do those things, I can take no credit for this new interest in running.  I became enthralled after picking up a book by two runner moms (Dimity McDowell & Sarah Bowen Shea).  It’s called “Run Like A Mother,” and it documents their successes, failures, life ambitions,  laughs, favorite picks for music + running gear, and so on.  It’s been a lightening read for me, and so far given me victory in my mind.  They’ve been the ones who made me put some running shoes back on, (I have jogged off and on for years) and I don’t doubt that they’ll give me a boost when I need it.  Dimity & Sarah, I owe you a big thank you.  If you want a read that is brutally honest, informative, hilarious, and inspires you to push your “GO” button.. I’d suggest it highly.

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