A Conversation With Myself

At about 1:35 every week day morning I’m relived when I wake up and look at my watch. I think “Thank god, I still have three and half more hours to sleep.” I get up, go to the bathroom and quickly drift back to whatever dream I was in the middle of. Then at about 4:48 I wake up again, “Damnit, why can’t you just sleep until it’s time to get up?” I drift back only to be awakened fifteen minutes later by my alarm that I set sometime yesterday for 5:03am. I leap, literally leap because the buzzing scares me, out of bed, grab my phone and some how in my sleepy stupor make it quiet. I crawl back into bed and lay there hugging my phone like I’m trying to shush a baby that has been crying.

“Just stay in bed, it’s fine, you’ll go after work.”

“No, no, no. Get your ass up. You KNOW you’ll feel better.”

“Take today off. Don’t even worry about it.”

“Get up NOW. You know you won’t do it later.”


Ultimately, the angelic voice of reason wins and I roll out of bed, shut off my other alarms, grab and apple and drive to the gym. I literally have this conversation with myself EVERY MORNING. I’ve yet to give in. I’m at the gym by 5:20am latest and have realized that this is the perfect time to be there. The woman at the front desk laughs at the mop of curls on my head that I haven’t yet bother to tame in a pony tail, I nod ‘hello’ to the two women in their 50’s counting the calories tick away on the treadmill. I awkwardly try to not get in the way of the Mexican dude that seems to be on a mission to make his pecs bigger while rocking a flat billed hat tilted to the left, (I mean really, who has time to think about accessories when you’re getting to the gym by 5:30??) This is the time for me to zone out, focus on me and get my self set and ready for the day.

By 6:05 the parking lot is full and the people who hit ‘snooze’ are showing up. The pregnant woman walks the track, two middle aged guys throw around a basketball and I put down my weights and hit the elliptical for a few more minutes before heading home in the still glowing moonlight.   By 6:25 I’m in and out of the shower and making breakfast.

I’m never mad that I made it to the gym. I’ve had thoughts of turning the car around and crawling back into bed for another hour but then I know how angry I would be at myself. I’m a routine person, I’m learning that with this sort of routine I tend to succeed in more areas of my life, I smile more, I laugh more, I feel better and accomplish more. As much as I love and still am spontaneous I’m appreciating what I have right now and developing some habits that I know will help me accomplish even more in the long run.

Saying Goodbye

I enjoy it. For me it’s more of a routine, it’s a ritual and an experience–a moment of silent bliss. Grinding the beans, pouring the hot water…waiting…pressing the grounds down to reveal a deep, rich, aromatic liquid. Coffee is a way to connect with my mind, check in and relax. It’s an opportunity to connect with someone else, it’s a tool to bring people together and get things done–or not. It’s a way to kill an hour before work or relax after a stressful day. The mug warms your hands and perks you up, as the steam gently rises it can fog your glasses and the smell takes over your senses and a feeling of joy can take over.


This is direct quote from my journal while sitting at Rowster’s in Grand Rapids this past Saturday. A conversation with my older brother is what inspired it. A conversation about quitting coffee. If you know me, you know I have a love for it. Hell, I have a tattoo that depicts my love for the stuff. So why on earth would I consider quitting?! My brother, who he himself has quit many vices and is a better person for it, thinks it will help me. Help me sleep better (kinda a ‘duh’), help me be more productive (I’m skeptical of this one,) help my moods, my skin and he listed many many other reason why I should quit.

So I’m going to quit coffee for three months.

I repeat. I am going to quit coffee for the time being.

They say (not sure who ‘they’ are…) say that it takes three months for a given substance to be ridded of your body. I’m going to journal about it, listen to my body, mind, soul and productivity. I’m going to attempt to blog (and not complain,) about it. I’m going to try and not take up any other addictions in this process. Right now my ONLY addiction is coffee.

An apology in advance: if you’re my facebook friend, REAL life friend or snap chat buddy I’m apologizing NOW for whining, maybe crying and probably sniffing your coffee if you consume it in front of me. I’m dreading the headaches and already missing my routine. If anyone has any good tea suggestions (decaf of course) I would love to hear them.


Wish me luck. Follow me on here and join me on this…sigh…journey as I say goodbye.




A New Kind Of Normal

I feel guilty. I’m a huge guilt addict lately. However, what I realized I felt guilty about this morning was the fact that I haven’t ‘gone for a run’ in ages. Just a run to run. Recently, when I’ve laced up my running shoes I’m headed to the gym, I’m running the mile to the gym—only to hop on the elliptical and lift weights. Or I run the 1.6 miles to the pool to swim some laps then run home. The other day I did go for a run, but I found a set of stairs and I ran up and down them for 20 minutes instead of logging miles here at 3,000 feet—I added to my elevation gain and loss via concrete steps. Weird, I know.


            But what I realized on my way to the gym this morning was that I don’t have to run. I’m kicking my ass nearly everyday lifting weights, swimming, biking and elliptizing, (I have this weird love for the elliptical…) I’m doing good for my body and yet in the back of my mind I think I should be running. But why?

            I think I feel this way because for so long I was the runner in my circle of friends. (Let’s be honest, I still am in some of those circles,) but that’s who I was. And it’s okay to change. It’s okay to not do what you’ve always done and change up your norm. Right now I enjoy being a gym rat, I enjoy logging laps at the local pool, I enjoy laying on my couch and reading a novel, I enjoy selling drinks and French fries rather than wool socks and running shoes! I’m still in a routine, I’m still exercising (all norms in my life,) but changing it up and creating a new normal is kind of exciting.


I have no doubt I’ll get my running legs back eventually, but for right now I’m enjoying a different kind of normal.