My Cup Runneth Over

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“So, what did you do this weekend?” I often ask my patients on a Monday.  As I’ve mentioned before, I love to hear about what people are up to and what makes them tick; the “people part” is the most enjoyable part of my job.

When patients returned the question back to me, I found myself saying that I had a “low-key weekend.”  “It was quiet,” I’d say, “we didn’t get up to much,” or “there was lots of downtime.”  And yet, when I replay my weekend it was anything but quiet:

  • I ran 18km with one of my best friends at 6:00am on Saturday morning.
  • I worked until 1:00pm on Saturday afternoon.
  • I snuggled with my kids and watched a movie on the couch.
  • We went to our dear friend’s for dinner on Saturday night.
  • We went to church on Sunday morning.
  • We went apple and pumpkin picking on Sunday afternoon.
  • I sorted and purged both kid’s closets, dressers, and bookshelves.
  • We did some Fall planting and yard cleanup.
  • We watched all three Jays games on the edge of our seats.

Throw in some laundry, some food prep, and some housecleaning, and it was a full, busy weekend.  So how is it that I feel so refreshed and rejuvenated?  I think it’s because I love to do all of these things (minus the housecleaning).  Find what you love to do.  Do it.  That’s the trick.  A happy life is built upon time well spent.

My daughter’s Kindergarten class has been talking lately about the concept of “bucket filling” and “bucket dumping.”  Bucket fillers are people (and things) that make you feel good and content, while bucket dumpers are people (and things) that make you feel bad.  She excitedly tells us about the bucket filling tickets she earns at school by cleaning up, helping a friend, and sharing.  She’s proud of those tickets, and she’s learning to be a bucket filler herself and hang around with others who fill her bucket.

My bucket was filled up this weekend.  “My cup runneth over,” I texted my friend after our early Saturday run, and it’s true.  I’m full of gratitude for the life I have, contentment for the life I’ve built, and happiness for the life I live.  I’ve had this image saved on my phone for weeks, and I finally get to use it today:

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I hope you get to fill your bucket this Thanksgiving weekend.

***And I hope that Marcus Stroman is a bucket filler for Jays fans when he pitches tonight.

Make the trade.

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We all have our happy places.  Mine is most definitely alongside Lake Ontario in downtown Burlington.  More specifically, I love a glassy lake, running shoes on my feet, and the solace and peace of an early morning.  I got that two days ago, and my runner’s high is still holding strong more than 48 hours later.

But my happy place comes at a price.  You see, to access this place, you must make a trade for sleep.

This is an internal dilemma that I wage with myself most Sunday mornings.  It’s still dark, life has been busy, I’m too tired, my legs need rest.  All of these things come to mind when my alarm beeps at 6:00am and my duvet is seemingly always at its coziest.  But more often than not, the thought of my reward pulls me from slumber.  This is my prize:

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This view greets me less than 2km from my front door.  And on a warm Summer morning, the excuses fade away as soon as my feet touch my bedroom floor.  I know that the fleeting moment of choosing to get up is the hardest part of an early morning workout and the adrenaline waiting at the finish line is well worth the temporary fatigue.  I got the glassy lake I love and a deserted lakefront walkway and I was back home soon after my children woke up, ready to join in on a day of family time.

The end game of all this is that I’m planning to run in the Road2Hope half marathon in Hamilton on November 6th.  I have many friends and patients also running this race, and it’s the last local race weekend of the season, making it the perfect choice for slowly building my mileage back up.  I live my best life when I set personal goals, and my early-morning-run motivation dips miserably low if I do not have a specific race on the horizon.  So I had 14km on my training schedule and managed to sneak out without my four-year-old running buddy tagging along.  I stopped en route to take the above picture to share with my kids, as I often do.  I usually see some pretty interesting things… skunks, swans, and even a naked man on a bicycle.  True story (but no picture).

But the best part of my happy place is the effect it has on me.  The peace.  The gratitude.  The overwhelming contentment.

I hope you’ve got a happy place too.  And I hope that you go there often.  Even if you have to make a trade to make it happen.

Choose the trade.  Choose happy.

Come with me.

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The sweetest moment happened to me in the early hours of Sunday morning.  Two days later, it’s still making me smile, so I want to share it here with you.

I had my alarm set to wake me at 6:30am, wanting to get in a run before the rest of my household was up, so as not to miss precious weekend family time.  In my mind, I was planning for a fast 8km, much of it at tempo pace, as I’m doing a 5K race on Friday and haven’t tested much speed since my shortened half marathon four weeks ago.  I was looking forward to the glassy lake, music in my earbuds, and to feel the burn in my lungs.  This run had been scheduled into my online calendar many days prior, and as I often do before a run, I had visualized my route and mentally prepared for the welcomed discomfort that a hard effort brings.

My alarm beeped softly, and sunlight was already streaming into the bedroom, a nice change from the cold, dark Winter pre-dawn runs only a few months prior.  My four-year-old daughter was snuggled up against me; as I’ve mentioned before, since our move last September she’s taken to crawling into our bed halfway through the night- something I cherish and know won’t last forever.  As I snuck out from underneath her embrace, her sleepy eyes started to open.  “Where are you going?” she whispered.  “I’m going for a run,” I replied. “Go back to sleep, it’s too early to get up.”

Now, she often stirs when I head to the gym at 5:30am and a simple “go back to sleep” puts her right back into dreamland.  But this time, her eyes welled up and as she laid back down I could see her little mouth turning into a soft whimper.  She began to suck on her fingers for comfort, something she’s done since she was a newborn.  She was crying because I was leaving.  My heart broke.

“Do you want to come with me?” I asked. “Yes,” she nodded and pulled back the covers, her bedhead on full display and her little body still warm from slumber.  In less than five minutes we were out the door, with a Chariot full of breakfast snacks and a little girl in pyjamas.  It was a sunny Summer morning, and because we were so early, we got to enjoy quiet streets and sleepy houses, with bunnies and robins abound.

I changed my run plan from push-the-pace to savour-this-moment, and savour it I did.  We did that 8km along the lake, as I had originally planned (and we got the glassy lake that I love so much), but my heart rate stayed low and my heartstrings pulled high.  I stopped to open snack containers, to play at the park, and to point out the geese and the paddleboarders.  We talked about every thought that popped into her head, every bike that rode by, and every seemingly-mundane thing that fascinates a four-year-old.  It was quite possibly the best run I’ve ever had, and my runner’s high is still going.

Running with my kids is not new- there are thousands of miles on my running stroller I’m sure, and they are both very used to joining me.  But this time was different because our family is at such a time of transition.  You see, this smart, inquisitive little girl is heading to full-time Kindergarten in September, and I’m having a hard time with it (see my previous post on the topic).  She’s growing up and gaining independence, and the days of me pushing her in the running stroller, the days of her sobbing to join me on a run, and the days of her sleeping beside me are numbered.  I’m hyper-aware of this the second time around.

Have I mentioned that I’m an emotional sort?  Add in life changes, my children, running, and a glassy lake, and I’m done for.  But my tears were happy ones, they are happy ones; it’s just that sometimes the love and gratitude overwhelm me.

So if you saw a crying mother and a chatty little girl zipping along the lakefront on Sunday, that was us.  “Run fast Mommy,” she said.

I will, sweet girl.  Come with me.