Running . . .
No, no, no. Not running my mouth. I won't stop because I can't stop. The running all over Hell's half-acre "running" as in "never sitting down or just enjoying a few minutes of peace" type of "running" is the running I mean.
I know a woman who once told me she didn't have time for a relationship because she spent too much time working, exercising, and sleeping. I made the argument, foolishly, that a little less working out and a little less sleeping and a little more relationship could mean a happier, healthier person. I was verbally berated and physically assaulted.
I don't have that problem . . . the "I don't have time because I put too much time to ______" problem. I'm the opposite, especially lately. I find myself over promising and under delivering on the hours in the day.
At least 45 minutes a day for running or working out? I try (I am at three days a week - I need to get to five). Seven hours a night for sleeping? Ideally. Nine hours to the work day. Check. An hour for homework, reading to my child, and playing math games? Every night I have her. 30 minutes a day for blogging? Generally. Quality time? Yep. Bing watching random TV shows on the Roku? Nearly bottomless time for that. Hebrew time? Ummmmmmm . . . yeah . . . so. Talking with my parents and brothers weekly? The time difference is . . . an excuse. Staying close with friends from my previous lives in college and DC? I mean . . . so there . . . um.
So - it is about priorities. I get green beans (for my guinea pig) and bananas (for me) every. Single. Week. Never miss. WHY? Crucial. I always find time to be a parent. Work is important. Running is something I will give time to . . . the rest of it? It is priority and focus. I lack focus and just don't prioritize well enough, I suppose.
But I keep running and trying and hoping and praying. One day . . . I'll pull it all off.