Running . . .

No, no, no. Not THAT kind of running (but I am back to doing that and have many, many miles to cover in advance of next May's Prairie Fire (Half) Marathon). I'm talking about the other kind of 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.