Back On My Feet

I am tired. I’m moving a little slower, feeling achier and achier, and each day my dark black hair becomes more and more sprinkled with touches of gray.

In the past three months, I spent three weeks in the United States (during which I drove to and from Dallas twice and flew roundtrip to New Orleans), a week and a half in China, a week in Malaysia, one week in Turkey, a weekend in Kosice (eastern Slovakia), a weekend in Copenhagen, and a weekend in Croatia. It’s not just the travel, but also the work. It is great experience and I couldn’t ask for a better opportunity, but it is extremely challenging and both mentally and physically draining. The beauty though of the framework of the audit organization in which I work is that every three months, when one project comes to an end, another begins.

It’s a fresh start. It’s an opportunity to learn from previous mistakes, while also the chance to make new ones. It’s like staring down an open fairway. You have to erase from your mind whatever happened on the previous hole (whether good or bad), not think about what looms on the next one, and focus on the wide open fairway in front of you and try again to get it right, to be perfect.

Being in Dallas for work, I laced up my dependable, but worn Asics, and headed for the Katy Trail, the place I learned to enjoy running when I was in business school. It’s less a trail and more an urban (paved) running path which caters to the “pretty” people that can afford to live along or near it, but I like it, a lot. Battling 3 months accumulation of 14 and 15 hour work days, muscle tightness and IT band pain brought about by hours upon hours of sitting cramped on airplanes (or at least that’s my theory), and the Dallas summer heat, I ran. It felt great. My mind for just a little while, 30 minutes or so, was able to get away from work. I wasn’t thinking about the last three stressful months or the next project kicking off the next week. I was focused instead on the run, my feet, my breathing. I was focused on nothing, but each new step. I was living in and cherishing the moment..

Even with a busy week of meetings, work events, visits with friends and family, and an evening attending Game 5 of the NBA Finals, I returned each morning to the Katy. It’s reminder that I need this time in my life, the one hour a day, whether it’s running, walking, reading, or writing; my own time, my own life. I’ve always recognized the importance of this, but things always seem to get in the way; excuses, mostly. Every so often, one needs a wake-up call. Hopefully, this time I’ll pay attention.