My life is a blur. A busy, intense, faster-than-the-speed-of-light blur. Get up early (5:45 at the latest), eat breakfast, pack lunches, get child in car, drop off child at preschool, commute to school, answer e-mails, do eight bajillion things over the course of the day, get back in car, fight traffic, perhaps stop at store for food, pick up child, make dinner (if it's one of my nights to cook), answer e-mails, think about all the things I forgot to do or could have done better, read books with my son, bedtime routine, try to do something relaxing for a few minutes, go to sleep. Wake up, repeat with minor variations. Occasionally vacuum and do laundry.
People generally do what they need to do. They make it happen somehow. A lot of people have crazy schedules nearly identical to, or tougher than, mine in terms of intensity, multitude of activities and responsibilities, etc. But I have to admit that there are moments when I stop to think about all the stuff I'm doing and thinking about, and I'm surprised that I am managing as well as I am. In the past, I have crashed and burned when facing similar stressors. I'm trying hard to make time for myself, but it's tough - sometimes nearly impossible. The day is over minutes after it's started. The week whooshes by in a flash. The weekend? Pssh. It feels like a blink.
I'm also surprised I'm not feeling more anxious and overwhelmed these days. I think it's because running gets stuffed into the schedule. I've run five days of the past seven. I tell myself it's mandatory. It's not an option. It's just as important as the other things on my to-do list. Today I came home and hopped right on the treadmill for 30 minutes of speedwork. Short, but I pushed myself and it felt good. It's worth it.
There are other things I could be doing, and maybe other things I SHOULD be doing, but those 30 minutes in my running shoes, or 40, or 50, or sometimes even just 20, have a big payoff for me in terms of being able to cope with life.