Showing Up (and squats)

I started this new ‘thing’ thoughtfully titled “100 Squats Every Day in May”.  I talked a handful of friends into doing it with me (in all actuality, it was an open invite for ANYONE to join, but let’s be honest who willingly volunteers as tribute for bum burners) and have actually shown up for seven days straight thus far.

Why am I sharing this? Not because I think it’s news-worthy that I’ve been doing squats for seven days, but because (as sad as this sounds) this is the first time I can recall actively showing up for myself in a realm that wasn’t involving work or personal obligations to others.

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(Pensive, deep-in-thought photo complements of my husband, it felt applicable)

It’s a silly goal I set forth, but by holding myself accountable day after day I’m reminding my brain that I AM capable of doing this. I CAN follow through with things. Somewhere, in the not-so-distant past I read an article about how detrimental setting goals and not following through was, not even necessarily for that specific goal itself, but because you let your brain get used to it being OK not to follow through. Your brain no longer things it needs to show up for you. How sad is that?! NOT COOL, BRAIN, NOT COOL. Nobody likes the non-follow-through’er.

So… here we are. Making baby steps towards not only being mindful of what I’m training my brain, but also towards DAT BEYONCE BOOTY! (Insert crying laughing face here).

Speaking of, what even is typing without emoji’s these days? Is that why I stopped blogging? Because I couldn’t use heart eyes and thumbs down to convey my real feelings? 

[Focus, Chelsea] The whole point is I fell off the wagon because I lost the reason to show up.  Tate and I joke all the time that our grandkids will be dying to read about our travel tales (and other surely embarrassing haikus spread through these posts) and I truly do want things logged for that reason, but dammit if we’re being honest STORY-TELLING IS JUST FUN TO SHARE. This is nothing new, humans were scraping rocks on their little cave walls back in the day just so someone down the line would read about what they meal-prepped for lunch and could follow their tutorial on how to style their loincloth (right, right?!)

If I wanted to be an introvert, I’d pick up a journal. But lucky for you all, my hand cramps halfway through a paragraph in this digital age we live in, and I also find it fun to swap a story now and then.
This is my pledge to show up, here, on this blog, on this little spot on the web that I carved out. (Bad caveman joke?)  For you guys, for any potential future Tate Jr’s and mostly FOR MYSELF.

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