Kerri On Down The Road

I know that I am not alone in the last-minute holiday frenzy that takes over as we near Christmas morning.  I remember it all too well when the boys were younger - the sense of accomplishment that I would feel by beating the clock and managing to get those last minute items on Christmas Eve, before the stores shut their doors.  And although managing to cross off those last items on my to-do list felt great, what felt even better was the sense of peace that came with the knowledge that no matter what, I could literally do no more.  Once the stores had closed, that was that.  Unless there was something that I was going to pick up at a gas station or corner store left to do, I was basically done. As the kids have gotten older, and my need to be out shopping for them has decreased, I still find the same sense of ease washes over me on Christmas Eve as everyone winds down for a couple of days to spend time with friends and family for the holidays.  The sense of the w...

 I don't remember what year it was, or my age.  What I do remember is that it was summertime and my parents and I were at the annual carnival held in the large parking lot of the main shopping mall in my hometown, and I had convinced them that it was a good idea for my dad and me to take a turn on the Scrambler.  The Scrambler was a somewhat suspect attraction that subjected its riders to being shuttled around in jagged circles, to and fro, for what seemed like an eternity but was likely only five or so minutes.  Whatever case I had managed to plead had led to my dad and me being held captive on this torture device.  The adventure started out okay, with the first few twists and turns feeling quite exciting and exhilarating.  These good feelings were quickly replaced by a growing sense of nausea in the pit of my belly.  I was a kid who tended towards motion sickness on hilly roads so can only imagine what my body was trying to make of this experience....

 I remember first learning about compasses in grade school.  We were shown how they work and then came the exercise of actually trying to use one to find our way somewhere.  I have never felt so lost in my life!  Not being someone who is naturally inclined with a good sense of direction, this fact is not shocking at all.  Even when I have a map in hand (or on my phone), I consistently make wrong turns.  This became evident in Chicago, where I ate up most of my roaming data consulting and re-consulting Google Maps as I attempted to navigate the city. With all this in mind, you can imagine how using maps and compasses resonated with me when thinking about following directions as they relate to our life's path.  I was listening to a podcast when the speaker suggested that instead of trying to plan and plot out every step of our journey, we would be well-served to think of navigating with a compass instead.  Inviting in a practice of moving in a gener...

 I don't know when I made the decision to do things differently.  All I knew was that as I lined up for my final race of the season, I was going to push my limits and see what happened.  All year I have been training for marathons, which has required a lot of long, slow-distance training.  I have enjoyed this type of work as it feels good in my body.  I am not a fast-twitch sort of gal.  Endurance feels like it comes naturally to me, and although I can lean into speed work, I often feel a sense of mental discomfort that trumps the physical push required.  With all of the slow, steady work I have been doing, I find myself approaching all runs with that mentality.  Taking it easy and leaving gas in the tank for the end.  As I approached this final 10k I started to wonder what would happen if I stopped playing safe?  I knew that my worst-case scenario would be blowing myself up and needing to walk the course, which I could manage.  My ...

 I sometimes feel like I am not alone in wanting someone to give me permission for the decisions I make.  From mundane things like staying in bed to get the extra rest I need, to taking a sick day when I feel unwell.  I find myself wishing that there was another voice in the room, telling me that it is okay to feel how I feel or to want what I want.  I also feel envious of those who seem to move through life with ease, making choices that suit their needs and well-being without a second thought.  Perhaps that is just the vision that I see on the surface, and maybe the same sense of uncertainty lingers underneath the facade.   Glennon Doyle wrote about permission slips in her book Untamed , and although that idea resonated with me when I first read it, I didn't give it much thought afterward.  Until now. As I lean into some pretty big life changes ahead, I find myself getting in my own way.  I often joke that my five-year plan has been ten yea...

 I will be the first to admit how hard it is to avoid the trap of comparison.  No matter how hard I try, time and time again I find myself ensnared in its shiny jaws, wondering how in the world I allowed myself to become trapped again.  Perhaps it is a rite of passage; as we take on new challenges and acquaint ourselves with a new community or identify with a new persona, we cannot help the urge to see where we stand.  Sometimes I feel that comparison helps me to move forward with a challenge or goal, igniting a fire in my belly and a desire to work harder.  Other times it does the complete opposite, deflating me and making me wonder why I am pushing so damn hard in the first place.   Something I heard today made me reconsider the role comparison plays in development and how I might be able to start viewing myself moving forward.  The idea that struck me like a lightning bolt was regarding a shift in how we view ourselves and our abilities.  ...

 As time passes after crossing the finish line at Chicago, I find myself reflecting on the experience as a whole.  This felt much different from other races I have participated in, and I also feel like there are a number of lessons for me to learn and carry forward as I prepare for spring marathon training this winter. For some reason, this time around I lined up at the start of Chicago feeling ready.  Not feeling afraid of the race or the challenge ahead of me.  Don't get me wrong, I have deep respect for the marathon and do not discount the distance nor the fortitude required to cross that finish line.  The difference for me this time around was that I knew I could do it.  Despite not knowing for sure what "doing it" might look or feel like, I knew that I had what it would take to get myself through the entirety of the race.  This is very new for me.  I have lined up for four marathons now, and have run a handful of half-marathons as well and th...