Posts Tagged ‘motivation’
Quick Turnaround
It was a novel adventure to hop Asher into the car to scoot up to the lake with little fanfare on Sunday afternoon and then return home the following morning. Cyndie met with a contractor to request a quote for some fixing up that is needed on the dwellings. The trip also gave us a chance to assess the status of the feared mouse infestation we discovered the last time we were up.
A mousetrap I left in a drawer had caught one, but the other trap did not snap despite obvious activity all around it. On the bright side, we found no other evidence of activity, particularly in the bed that was a mess when I climbed into it last time.
Asher was a very busy guy, scrambling to leave his mark everywhere we walked. I let him romp on the ice for a short distance, and he was thrilled to sprint around on the slippery surface, sliding, turning, and leaping in gleeful doggy fun. It’s too bad that our little ice patch in the paddock at home doesn’t offer him the same opportunity. It would be easier for him to leap over it than slide on it.
There were trace amounts of snow up north, but after we got home and went for a walk, it made the absolute lack of snow really stand out to me. Our property feels bone dry. Freeze-dried. Last winter, when we experienced a similar lack of accumulating snow, the temperature frequently rose above freezing. After our recent bout of extremely cold temperatures, the 10-day forecast shows a continued run of normally cold days and no hint of precipitation. This will be a very long spell of below-freezing, yet very dry weather.
So much for the prognostications of a snowier winter this year. At least for now. I have a suspicion there will be a couple of snowstorms here before winter is over.
The later in the season it comes, the greater the likelihood of a quick turnaround after a significant snow event.
In the meantime, I will admit to appreciating the lack of needing to plow and shovel. However, I’m at risk of developing an unhealthy attachment to sedentary pursuits on couches that lend themselves to easy snacking on deliciously salty and crunchy processed foods.
My quest for optimal health has developed a bit of a wobble, dare I say.
I should probably have a serious talk with myself one of these days about putting a quick turnaround on that trend.
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Something Happened
When I passed the milestone of 65 years of age, something happened. Something more than the change of health insurance to Medicare. It was something much more subtle and has been worming around in my unconscious insidiously in the mere five months since my last birthday.
I’m losing momentum in my determination to tick away at something that builds strength, boosts stamina, and generally improves overall health each and every day. Last week, I opted to stay in bed instead of getting up to do my planking and stretching routines.
I’ve been telling myself that it was just a break and I could get back on track any time, but the number of breaks in that routine has been occurring with frighteningly increasing frequency in the last year. Similarly, I’ve noticed I don’t pay as close attention to the daily percentage of added sugar in my diet choices.
I think my mind is accepting the natural changes occurring in my body as joints grow arthritic and hormones and metabolism gradually and progressively fade. Being disinclined to seek hormone therapy options to combat natural aging, the best thing I can do involves exercise and diet.
I know the solution, but I’m losing the oomph to address it.
It’s like a football game where you play great, and the team pulls off some spectacular plays to keep the game close, but in the end, you lose by 1 point.
All that effort, but without a desired result.
I’m willing to accept I might not maintain my zest for the routines I’ve established with the intensity of my previous decade, but something happened with my motivation that I will need to address. Luckily, I haven’t replaced my good health practices with new habits like smoking or becoming a problem drinker.
Basically, I think I’m battling the feeling of becoming a tired old man before I actually am one.
The something that is happening is, I’m letting the gradual changes of aging get to my head.
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Half Day
I felt a little like I was “quiet quitting” yesterday when I chose to wait a half day before venturing out with pruning tools in hand to clear more brush along our northern property line. It was cold outside in the morning and I knew it would be warming up eventually, what with the bright sunshine we were experiencing.
A little extra time in the recliner doing some reading and writing meant outdoor chores could wait. I guess that is a luxury one has when you are your own boss. I just won’t be giving myself any “going out of your way” awards for my partial effort.
In the morning frost, one of our fence posts caught my eye because the lines of the grain pattern were accentuated by the ice crystals.
The horses didn’t show any signs of being bothered by the brisk start of the day and remained wonderfully mellow while morning feed pans were served.
My slow start, which pretty much kicked off right out of bed –for no obvious reason I was seriously lacking in motivation from the moment I stood up– carried over into the afternoon when I finally did get outside to cut branches. I was in no mood to crank up and maneuver the chainsaw. The ratcheted lopper and a good old pruning handsaw became my weapons of choice.
I guess I am gambling that the weather predictions for the days ahead will prove accurate and there is no rush to finish any of our ongoing outdoor projects before snow and cold bring an end to landscaping endeavors.
Mentally, it seems I am more than prepared to engage in extended indoor activities at the earliest opportunity. The idea of not even getting out of bed loomed large on my mind at the moment Delilah made her body-shaking, ear-flopping announcement that it was time to get going yesterday morning.
It was hump day yesterday, after all. No wonder I was feeling unmotivated. Now it’s Thursday and I am ready and rarin’ to go. Except, the days of the week make no difference in my schedule of activities.
I can report, however, that just because I no longer commute to a day job, every day definitely does NOT seem like a Saturday.
Taking a half day off every so often gives me a chance to appreciate that every day is almost like a Saturday if I choose to think of it like that.
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Little Motivation
This morning I dug out one of my winter hats –the one that is actually a Buff® made of half thick pile fabric/half ultra-stretch polyester microfiber– for the first time in over half a year. There was frost coating much of our fields. Cold temperatures feel so much colder this time of year.
Yesterday, I fell asleep on the ground in the sun while sitting with Delilah in wait for an appliance repair person to appear in the allotted window of time between 9 and noon. The warmth was soothing until Delilah would stand in the way and cover me with her shadow. The chill that instantly resulted was irritating.
The repairman showed up around 12:45, spun the basket of our washing machine by hand, and immediately pronounced the bearings were in need of replacement and that would require a new appointment on another day. Cyndie is wondering if we should bother with the expensive work or simply replace it with a new one for a little additional expense. I don’t have a good answer for the question except for my strong aversion to disposable devices.
I don’t know what it is but I am feeling little motivation to pursue any productive effort the last few days. A strong pull to just stand among the horses, or as I did yesterday, lay around with Delilah has become my most appealing notion.
It is warming up nicely and the sun is shining brightly so I am hoping to muster the energy to drain water from hoses and roll them up on a day when the weather is pleasant instead of waiting like I almost always do until it is ridiculously cold and the hoses stiff.
I’m wondering if getting my body in motion will result in it staying in motion for the bulk of today’s daylight hours.
I have recently updated system software which has rendered my old familiar image editor inoperable. Time to pick a new program and learn how to use it. That project doesn’t require my body to get in motion but it does beg for some motivation. Right now, that motivation comes from having initiated a 10-day free trial with the first potential replacement.
I loath the frustration of not being able to do what I want to in manipulating software, especially when I am unable to discern whether it is because the software simply doesn’t support the feature or just that I don’t know how to operate the program yet.
My primary life motivation leans toward avoiding frustrations as much as possible.
The lure of visions of standing among horses is strong. It would be frustrating to fight against that.
Draining hoses can wait until later this afternoon when it is even warmer. Software exploration can wait until after dark.
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Thirteen Eggs
We now know that all thirteen of our hens are producing eggs. Friday we collected one egg for each hen in our brood. Our little chicks are all grown up.
They are thriving in their first exposure to spring and full access to free ranging our fields and forest. Crawling insects are under an all out assault.
When I was primping the paddock in preparation of our anticipated new equine tenants, the chickens showed up to join the fun; happy to help.
Now I’m going to go outside and clear out the last remnants of moldy hay from the hay shed and de-clutter the barn and I couldn’t be more excited about the reason so to do.
New horse companions are slated to arrive in less than a month.
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Like This
It’s like this every year. The forest is constantly changing, but it becomes apparent suddenly all at once. It’s not as thick as it was before. Sightlines start to open up. It becomes easier to see deeper into our woods and I discover new and interesting spectacles.
This dead tree had sloughed its bark, but a vine prevented the old skin from dropping all the way to the ground, creating an eye-catching visual.
It’s also like this when deciding to go outside on a day of varying weather conditions. Our sky was a mix of sun and clouds yesterday, resulting in dramatic swings between cheery and gloomy. When I finally rallied to head outside to get something productive accomplished, the air was suddenly wet with waves of heavy mist.
My timing was off by about ten minutes. As fast as that precipitation arrived, it departed.
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Those two views were taken at the same time, first looking east, then turning around to the west.
The swings of dreariness messed with my motivation, such that I ended up puttering the day away nipping at the edges of doing something significant, but never really making much progress to speak of.
Some days, that’s just what it’s like around here.
At least it’s a beautiful place to be when not getting all that much done.
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Karmic Humility
Today is Friday, so I was able to sleep in because I don’t commute to the day-job on Fridays. The final minutes of my slumber this morning were filled with a dream about our cattle.
We don’t have any cattle.
Made me think of the saying, “all hat, no cattle.”
I would have said I was dreaming about cows, but after the great escape and tromping of our property by our neighbor’s bovine ten earlier this summer, we learned he didn’t have cows. His herd was all steers, so the term to use was, cattle.
I’m thinking my mind was dreaming of cattle to distract me from what is stabbing me in the back during my waking hours these last two days: degenerating discs again.
In a twist of karmic humility, instead of boasting about the progress of five consecutive months of daily plank exercises, I find myself focused on a debilitating flare up of stabbing back pains. The precious positive thread woven into this tale is the noticeable difference in level of disruption this time. I truly believe it is the result of the strength built up in my core from my string of consecutive days of planking.
When my series of painful back injuries were diagnosed as degenerating disc disease years ago, I was given a regimen of recommended exercises to treat the symptoms. The easiest was to walk a half an hour a day. Stretching and plank exercises were also advised.
I was all about the walking, but the exercises weren’t activities that I easily maintained.
Oddly enough, it wasn’t my degenerating discs that inspired my decision to finally get serious about planking. It was more about vanity. I was unhappy that none of my healthy efforts ever seemed to put a dent in the paunch and love handles that graced my midsection.
Cutting the amount of sugar in my daily diet had gone a long way to trim out my overall plumpness, but that classic paunch persisted.
I also credit the annual Tour of Minnesota bike trip for inspiring me to plank. Knowing I was at a risk of not having enough opportunities to bike in preparation for the mid-June trip, I decided to try planking every day in April to at least build up my core strength.
My butt might not be ready for the trip, but the rest of me would be resilient and strong. Knowing that planking was also advised to ward off back problems did help maintain my motivation at the time. Who wants to bike all day and sleep on the ground at night with an ailing back?
So, I succeeded in planking all through April, twice a day, in fact. It’s said that doing something for 30 consecutive days goes a long way to creating a habit. I planked through May, June –taking a week off during the bike ride– and have continued pretty much every day since.
Sometimes I miss an occasional day, or skip a morning or night, but the habit has been established, and the developing results are noticeable. The paunch and love handles are losing ground. As the planking has gotten easier with accumulated strength, my routine has expanded to longer duration, two-point planks, side planks, and more yoga stretching.
This morning, the routine is greatly modified to accommodate a recently unhappy, worn out disc.
Consider me duly humbled.
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My Choice
The other day I picked up a pitchfork and worked up a sweat stirring compost. It was late afternoon and I was already tired from a full day of chores, so my energy was waning. My arms sent a notice of complaint to my brain.
“Tired. Don’t feel like working anymore.”
It occurred to me that, despite a prevailing mindset to use machines to do all our exhausting tasks, I prefer the precise control I can achieve with hand tools. I’m not as fast as a machine, and I tire easily, but I get more satisfaction.
In my head, I imagined someone interrupting my effort to suggest I use the bucket on the tractor, because I was huffing and puffing, straining at the effort, and breaking a good sweat.
I actually like the exercise, despite my body complaining that it is tired.
How hard is it to convince yourself to get up early and go to the gym for a healthy workout? The body would rather remain at rest, for sure. But to be physically fit, we have to push ourselves out of that resting comfort zone.
Next, I imagined myself at the gym, huffing and puffing at the effort to work my arms, lifting weight. Would someone suggest that there is a machine to do that for me, so I don’t have to work so hard?
I choose my pitchfork.
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Relative Something 