Maybe I've had high standards. Or medium-highish standards that have offered an easy out, an excuse, for accomplishing... nothing. If I couldn't do it "right."
If I couldn't run at least 3 miles, then I might as well not even lace up the shoes. What was the point?
If I couldn't do runs with my friends, then snowboarding wouldn't be fun. I'll just stay home and make the chili.
If I didn't make a really amazing family calendar then I might as well just let everyone hang the free ones they got from their bank/car dealership/alma mater. Or just use their iPhones.
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| You know what I did in this fancy gear? I remembered, after a 6-year hiatus, that I ride regular, not goofy. I practiced heelside and toeside turns and perfected hockey stops. On the kids' hill. And then I had a beer with my riding partner to celebrate our progress. |
But, these days, there's no reaching the bars set where they've been. I can't always find time to run 3+ miles—but I can fit in 2 miles on the treadmill after the boys get off to school, before I shower and leave for work. I'm never going to ride like my past-pro (for real) snowboarding friends—but I can relearn the basics in lessons while my little guys are in their own classes so that I don't dread the family trips to the mountain that inevitably are going to happen for the next decade.
And my 2014 calendars are going to be filled with the first 12 high-enough-resolution sorta cool photos I can find in the next 24 hours (or two, because then I'm going to bed). I've slacked just the right amount on this one: Shutterfly calendars are 50% off till January 7.
What I've somehow finally started to learn in the last month or so is this: Lowering the bar is making me happier, healthier and richer. I think I'm becoming wise at 38.
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