On welcoming 2014: It's good to be here

I wish I’d kept lists of all the resolutions I’ve made and broken through the years, simply for the insight they’d give me into the person I used to be, and to revisit how I became the person I am today.  

When I was a teen, through my late twenties, I’m guessing at the top of my list would be this: lose ten pounds. I spent most of the first half of my life losing and finding again the same ten, twenty, thirty pounds, and was so obsessed with my fatness, even at my anorexic thinnest, that it consumed me and affected my belief in my own self-worth. In this way, I was not all that much different from most women of my age and cultural group. Thankfully, I’ve grown out of that idiocy, though I see around me many who have not.  

In my thirties, I had two main goals, so those would likely have been at the top of any resolution list. The first was to make enough money to support my girls and eventually send them to college. The second was to get married again.  The money thing worked its way out because I kept to strict budgets and worked my ass off. The marriage thing? Not so much, which is just as well because by the time I hit my forties, I’d gotten quite content being on my own.

The forties were all about working hard, paying for college, getting back into shape, running marathons. At first I ran my marathons because I wanted to. I had dreams I was reaching for. Eventually I ran my marathons because I needed to. They helped me cope with the stress of working hard and paying for college. 

Lately, I've gotten more circumspect. Life is moving too fast and I wish I could slow things down a bit.  I think more in terms of the big picture and less in terms of money and an extra pound or two. I’m sure this change of thinking has much to do with the fact that I’m just a little past the halfway point of my likely lifespan, if all goes well that is. I’m sure the events of the last year, which included some huge landmarks -- including caring for elderly and sick family members, and attending my thirty-fifth high school reunion -- all played a part in weaving this calmer, more inward-seeking view. 

The year 2013 is ending much like it began, with trips to and from the hospital and lots of visits to pharmacies. I am positive that 2014 will bring much joy to me and my family, but I wouldn’t be surprised if there were generous helpings of sorrow sprinkled in here and there. That’s life. 

With all that in mind, I am resolved to take good care of myself, in body, mind, and soul. You can’t take care of others if you don’t take care of yourself. Here, in no particular order, are some of my thoughts on how I will do my best to be my best. 

I will respect my body. Limit processed and fatty foods. Eat lots of fruits, veggies, and lean proteins. Work out five or six days a week -- cardio, weights, yoga. Make and keep doctor and dentist appointments. Use sunscreen. Get seven to eight hours sleep a night. I will occasionally eat brownies and chocolate, sometimes excessively. 

I will nurture my mind and my spirit. I will attempt to set computer time limits. I will watch television just a few nights a week. I will write at least once a week in the school year and five times a week during the summer. I will continue to read every day. I will take at least one writing seminar. 

When problems crop up I will think, “In the course of a lifetime, what will it matter,” and respond accordingly. I will look up at the sky and remember to consider the big picture. I will study brick walls and peeling paint and remember that there is beauty in the details. I will say thank you to the grocery store cashier and compliment her on her smile.  

I will help my family.  

I will buy locally. 

I will remember that every day is a chance to start again. I will throw pebbles in lakes and consider the ripple effect. I will forgive myself when I falter and remind myself that our best effort doesn’t always look the same every day or get the same results.  

I will remember that scars are beautiful and will remember the Japanese tradition of filling in the cracks in pottery with gold.  I will set goals and make realistic steps to reach them. Occasionally, I will shoot for the moon. 

When I fall down, I will give myself permission to whine a bit, then I will rise back up.

In times of joy and in times of sorrow, I will do my best to be grateful. I will remember that the only constant is change. I will remember that everyone is fighting something. 

I will trust my intuition, respect my collective consciousness. 

I will show my love for future generations by limiting my carbon footprint. I will continue to take part in the American Cancer Society research program, a long-term study much like the Framingham heart study, which will benefit my children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren and so on.

I will remember the story of the olive tree. Some say the act of planting an olive tree is the ultimate act of optimism. The olive tree takes twenty years to bear fruit, so you plant not for yourself but for future generations. I will plant olive trees, metaphorically, unless I move somewhere more temperate, where I can grow a literal one. 

I will remember that all through history, there has never been and never will be anyone just like me. For that, I will always thank my mom and dad, my grandmothers and grandfathers, and all who came before.

I will remember this. It’s worn out, but it’s true too, for me anyhow. Every day is a gift. That’s why it’s called the present. 

I will welcome 2014 with joy, hope, a bit of trepidation, and a smile, because it really truly is good to be alive.

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Read my reasons for running Boston 2014 on behalf of the American Liver Foundation. 

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