LESS Lying (To Myself)

If you've been reading along, it's been a (few) months. Truly, my life is not the worst it could be, but it is not the best, either. There is one thing I would like to do more of (running), but I can't do that. And there are a lot of things I could do less of. Up for consideration this month were less running (but hey, I'm already doing that), less overthinking (decide once), less loneliness (to motivate me to reach out to friends), less discontent (with a focus on increasing novelty, and less lying to myself. I settled on that last one on the premise that doing what I said I would do would help my motivation, and my mental health. I also kept seeing wellness creator Ashley LeMieux talk about the transformational nature of keeping promises to herself . I told myself to keep at least one promise to myself a day, but I didn't even do that. Here's what I did do:

I realized that a lot of promises to myself come down to a time crunch. I tell myself I'll do the fun thing, the self-care thing, the thing for myself after I get all my other responsibilities done. When I've completed those responsibilities, though, I often don't have time to do "my" thing, or I am just too tired to enjoy it. 

I experimented with keeping promises to myself, even if it meant running late (usually to work, or to my self-appointed next task). Thankfully I didn't actually shirk too many of my duties. (I have some flexibility with my admin time at work, for example, and if I get to work a little later, I can make up that time elsewhere.) I did find it stressful to run late, however.

I tried remaking promises to myself when I failed the first one (e.g. getting out for a walk at 6:30 instead of 6 AM). Sometimes, I still failed the second promise. Sometimes I failed a third time. And sometimes, I just didn't do anything for myself at all.

In some ways, keeping promises to myself reduced overthinking. If I told myself I was going to do something, I needed to do it in order not to make myself a liar. I realized that I can't just keep giving up on myself and expecting life to get better. I have to "bet on" myself by taking risks. And following through on things is making myself a truth-teller, whereas chickening out makes me a liar.

I could do a lot better to truth tell to myself. I could do better about being motivated and making promises to myself. Ultimately, I think that comes down to resting in the Truth Teller Himself, Jesus Christ, and my identity in Him. I could do to be a lot better connected to Him, and if I was, I would probably have a much, much better perspective on life and truly living in it.

Reference:

LeMieux, Ashley. [@AshleyLeMieux]. (2025, March 7). Keeping one promise a day to yourself is the most impactful way to change your life, and I’ll stand by. [Photograph]. Instagram. https://www.instagram.com/reel/DG6MDSeSfg8/?hl=en

The More of LESS Report (June)

I said this was going to be a year of less, and it’s turning out to be one, though not in the way I would like. Having not run since May, I’m not at less miles, I am at zero miles. I’ve had a little less work, but a lot more doctor’s appointments. (Thankfully I’ve been able to take sick time for them.) I have been doing less, but mostly because I can't do more.

There are certainly blessings in the slow-down, but I’m also struggling. My motivation has been low, and I’ve frittered away much of my time instead of doing purposeful things with it. I’ve written less, spent little time with friends, and even reclused from my husband. I haven’t worn a full face of makeup in weeks. I stopped painting my nails for a while. I’m dressing in the comfiest, loosest, stretchiest clothes I have. I haven’t been greatly disciplined about sleep or making our meals more nutritious. (I’ve been eating a lot, but not in the best proportions, or from the best sources.) I have been tanking, spiraling, deteriorating. Whatever I want to call it, it’s hasn’t been the kind of purposeful, intent-full life of less for which I hoped. I feel like all my goals have gone into the dumpster, or at least not had much meaningful effort applied to them. Could I change things? Yes? No? Maybe? But what’s the point? I need a renewed sense of purpose. As for my LESS goals, well, let's just say I have been making less, rather than more progress:

January-LESS scrolling: This goal is definitely not goaling. I am spending way too much time on social media. I tell myself to stop, but then I pick my phone right back up to look for something that will take my mind off my inertia, bring a hit of dopamine to my dopamine depleted brain. It does not work, but I keep doing it, and that, my friends, is the definition of insanity.

February-LESS picking: This is better when I have my phone in my hand, but worse when I just feel terrible about my body.

March-LESS hunger (judgment): This goals is a, "Yes," and a "No." I have been "giving in" to my hunger a lot. Supposedly part of the cure for this injury is eating in excess so that the body will heal. Have I gained weight? Yep, at about a pound a week since I got injured. My dietitian says this is good, but it does not feel good. So in summary, yes, I have been "honoring," my hunger, but I have also been angry at it and uncomfortable with its results, so a draw in this one.

*Note, I guess in some ways, it is a blessing that I have been so hungry. Hunger makes it easier to eat the amount I supposedly need to heal. Stuffing myself would make me feel even worse.

April-LESS goals: Well, I am stagnated here. I keep trying to find a goal that interests me as much as running, and so far, the only thing I have been doing is cooking more sourdough recipes. That is good, but not necessarily a parallel or "replacement."

In an effort to try to get motivated, I did start stacking up the goals again, too. This month, I was working towards a five minute plank challenge and a daily crunches challenge. That was probably too much on top of physical therapy exercises. I also tried to reach out to a friend everyday. Maybe I did not need to make this a daily goal, but it did help me at least try to navel gaze less.

May-LESS no: I honestly kind of forgot about this goal until my husband asked me to do some things. One thing, I asked to do on a different day. In the second instance, when I got him a lobster roll for National Lobster Day, I gave my immediate, "No," to his offer of a bite. I did realize this, though, and kind of prayed he would ask again so I could say, "Yes." He asked. I said, "Yes," and I have to say, lobster is not worth the hype, in my opinion. But hey, I kept with an intention in a small way for one day. (And a few other days, I made it, too.)

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In other areas, I find I am not missing the "less" in my closet much at all. In fact, growing out of my clothes might make my closet even more minimal!This month, I tried to clean out some of our freezer stores of food. (I used quite a bit, but we still have a bit. Frozen meals are not bad, but when the chest freezer no longer has room to fit much more, it is time to decrease inventory.) I have been doing less activities, and missing them, but surviving. Honestly, I would really like a "more" life right now, but for right now, this is the life I have. By God's grace, and in His power, may I be grateful for it and at least for the next month, complain a little less.

What We Cooked and Ate (Week 25)

This Week's Eats:

Apple cider banana bread muffins (Buttermilk by Sam)

The best egg salad (Lil' Vienna) on apple cider and cheddar buns (Brit in the South)

Campfire cones (Center Cut Cook) [Sent with my husband on his camping trip]

Instant Pot honey mustard chicken sandwiches (365 Days of Slow + Pressure Cooking)

Overnight sourdough waffles (The Pantry Mama)

Sourdough fritters with sweet potatoes and chickpeas (The Pantry Mama)

Sourdough peanut butter squares (The Pantry Mama)

Sriracha chickpea salad wraps (Budget Bytes)

Noteworthy Repeats:

Cottage cheese egg bake (The Real Food Dietitians)

Shredded chicken (365 Days of Crockpot)

Sourdough gravy (The Pantry Mama)

White chicken chili (Real Food Dietitians)

Freezer Pull-Outs:

Chickpeas

One hour sourdough discard burger buns (Amy Bakes Bread)

S'mores sourdough bagels (Sourdough Jesha)

Sourdough banana fritter muffins (The Pantry Mama)

Sourdough bread

Sourdough tortillas (Farmhouse on Boone)

Saying Goodbye to My "Running Body"

It's been six weeks, and I haven't run, even a step. My body knows it. My body shows it. While I wasn't on this running journey to alter my body, I was enjoying the changes it affected. I like seeing bigger leg muscles when I squatted. I liked what I thought were my strong calves. I was lifting heavier dumbbells than I ever had in my life. I felt tight and fit and strong, and then I had to stop running.

My ability to exercise at all decreased greatly when I got injured. Thankfully, I could still move a little bit, but even then, it was minuscule compared to what I was doing before. My body hurt. I couldn't squat down. Even sitting caused discomfort. I felt very old and debilitated. 

In addition to my body changing what it could do, it also started changing physically. Energy surplus is needed to heal bone, and in eating to create that, I started gaining (and am still gaining) weight. With lowering my exercise, that weight has not really gone to muscle. It is going to my love handles, and belly, and thighs. For the time being, I have stopped wearing all fitted pants and resorted to wearing drawstring jeans, dresses, stretchy bike shorts, and leggings only. I considered buying new clothes, but decided to forgo that expense until my body decides to settle, and that might be a while, as part of healing the metabolic injury that we believe might have caused my injury is maintaining a continued energy surplus.

As my pain has decreased, I have thankfully been able to be more active, but not in the usual ways. I can lift weights, but only really for arm and core work. I can do pull-ups, but with less reps, as my strength-gains had not kept up with my weight gain. I can do cardio, but only on an uphill treadmill, or via the recumbent bike, a machine at which I am notoriously weak. My body is not capable of what it once was.

Whether it is fat gain, muscle gain, or both, my shirts have also gotten tighter, particularly my tank tops. While I have always wanted to grow my arms and look stronger, this change has also seemed hard. Not only are my pants tight, but my shirts, too? Great. I might just need a whole new wardrobe, tops and bottoms by the time this is done!

I eagerly await the day when I might get cleared to try to run again, but in the meantime, I am grieving my running body. Even if I get to run again in the future, it won't be in the same way. I will have to go more slowly and incorporate more cross training. I will need to spend more time doing strengthening exercises to build my bone, to hopefully keep this type of injury from happening again in the future. If/when I get to return to my sport, it will be with a new body, and then that body will also morph and shift and change. 

While I'd rather not have these body changes*, my choices are to fight them, or to work at accepting them. My old running body is gone, and that has to be okay because though I didn't realize it at the time, the old running body I had wasn't sustainable. So I'm moving forward and saying goodbye. Running or not, there is a new model of this body coming, and I want to be here for it.

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*Body changes are uncomfortable. Maybe as a smaller sized person, I shouldn't talk about mine, but they are part of life, for everyone, so I think maybe I should. Saying goodbye to our past selves is hard, but it is really the only way forward. And the only way to say goodbye is to grieve what was, and to make room for what is yet to come. 

Dad, Friend to Anyone and Everyone

"C'mon, kids." Dad would say. "We're going to go visit some people." 

We would sigh, roll our eyes, and load up in our van. We knew what we were in for: a day full of sitting in other people's houses, listening to adults talk, while we kids sat and tried to be polite, (or not). We'd go from house to house this way, sometimes all day, not really playing, but just sitting. (This was unless Mom intervened, and for one summer, she couldn't, because she was at the hospital, working to renew her nursing license). I didn't understand the significance of those visits then, but now I do. My dad literally had enough friends to visit them for hours on end, without running out of things to talk about, or more people to see.

My dad has always been that way: a friend to anyone and everyone. My mom talks often about how my dad would pick people up to give them rides when he worked second or night-shift in downtown Charlotte, North Carolina. That was not the safest part of town, but Dad had a heart to help people, and help people, he did.

Mom also talks about Dad's coworkers, people who would not step into our home, but would join my dad at the pond or the lake for fishing. While those people did not feel at ease in our home, they felt comfortable with Dad, because Dad was a friend to anyone and everyone.

Dad made lots of friends when he ran his bulk water delivery business. He even made some four-legged ones and carried treats for them inside the cab of his semi. After he sold his business, he went to work for some of his well-drilling friends. I am sure he would have found a job with other friends, if not those ones.

Friends came out of the woodwork from anywhere and everywhere when Dad had open heart surgery three years ago. Those people supported him and my mom in all sorts of ways. Dad had loved them through some dark times, and they loved them through his.

Go for a walk with Dad through his new neighborhood, and you'll find him receiving coffee from one man, petting the next neighbor's horses, and saying hello to the neighborhood donkey. Dad made friends with one neighbor and helped him with a mechanic project. Dad gets eggs from another neighbor for whom he did some side jobs. Dad has already joined the local tractor club (and he got into tractors because of one of the Arizona friends he made). Occasionally, Dad gets the outdoor cat to come around. 

When we visited last summer, my husband got the, "We're going to visit some people" tour. (Thankfully, my husband was mature enough not to sigh, and to rather go along and enjoy the experience.) Dad went around the neighborhood, seeing whose garage doors were open so that he could say, "Hi," introduce his son-in-law and chit-chat.

Dad's ability to make friends probably comes from his mother, of whom it was said could "evangelize a brick wall" because she was kind and friendly. Dad carries on that legacy. More than that, Dad carries around the message of Jesus (Matthew 11:19, Luke 7:34), who was a friend to all kinds of people: rich and poor; sinner and saved. Dad doesn't care about status or stature. He cares about people. He knows who he is in Jesus, and he's not afraid to be that person with everyone.

I can see now why Dad loved those visiting days we had as a kid. He is an extrovert and gets his energy from people. As an introvert, I am not the same, but I can now appreciate my dad for who he is, and those visiting days for what they were. Dad possesses the ability to be friends with anyone and everyone, and that is admirable, and to be praised.

Thanks, Dad, for being a living legacy. I love you. Happy Father's Day!

What We Cooked and Ate (Week 24)

This Week's Eats:

Apple cider chicken bowls (The Real Food Dietitians) with baked sweet potato halves (Valerie's Kitchen

Baked sourdough doughnuts (The Pantry Mama)

Mississippi chicken casserole (365 Days of Slow + Pressure Cooking)

Reese's chia pudding (Healthy Kitchen)

Spinach eggs Florentine pizza (Budget Bytes)

Sourdough banana fritter muffins (The Pantry Mama)

Sourdough chocolate cupcakes (The Pantry Mama)

Noteworthy Repeats:

Big-batch Instant Pot white beans (Epicurious)

Cottage cheese egg bake (The Real Food Dietitians)

Shredded chicken (365 Days of Crockpot)

White chicken chili (Real Food Dietitians)

Freezer Pull-Outs:

Five-minute chicken gravy (Fixed on Fresh)

Seeded PB oat energy balls (The Dietitian Runner)

Sourdough bread

Sourdough gravy (The Pantry Mama)

Thin and crispy pizza crust (Budget Bytes)

Afghan 92

I tell myself to work on only one afghan at a time, but I run into reason after reason to start several. Case in point: this was a second afghan that I started because I got the wrong color of pink to continue on the first afghan I started. This afghan, with its alternating half double crochet pattern turned out to be pretty easy and mindless, so I decided to finish it first, and I like the way it turned out! It is not quite the 40 x 40 inch size I wanted, but when are my blankets ever the size I expect? It is about time for a pink blanket, too (though as circumstances would have it, I need boy baby blankets right now). Here are the details for the blanket:

Hook: Size I placed into a Boye ergonomic crochet hook handle

Yarn: Super Saver Jumbo skein of petal pink from Red Heart

Pattern: Cozy textured throw (Stitchberry)

I chained 141.

Finished size: 38 x 38 inches (approximating 30 x 35 stroller size)