Sunday, January 18, 2015

And then my treadmill broke

I've known for awhile that I am terrible at making decisions but I always secretly thought that everyone was indecisive and that I fit in right in the middle of the pack as a washy-washy, flip-flopping, indecisive, avoidant decision maker. But as my life has worn on and decisions have piled up I realize I am somewhat beyond the normal of indecisive and perhaps flirting with pathologically indecisive. I had a blinding realization recently during the cold snap we have been having. Every single morning, when I got up to run I would agonize and fritter away precious minutes (at 4.45 am) deciding whether to run on the treadmill in our basement or put on my big girl panties (and tights and wind pants and compression socks, and hoodie and jacket and mitts and neck warmer and hat) suck it up and run outside. Literally on some mornings I would dress and undress three times torn between the two very inconsequential options; frustrating because I don't wake up at 4.45 am to dither, I wake up at 4.45 am to log some miles dammit.

And then my treadmill broke.  And suddenly my mornings were so... much... better. No dithering, no agonizing, I just sucked it up, got dressed and went outside to do the thing I had woken up at 4.45 am to do. No choice, no decision making. And honestly I like it so much better that way. And I am loving running outside in these frigid temperatures. I realize now that my strength is not and never will be in making decisions... My strength is in enjoying the situation I am in and making it work.

This, I realize, is why I was almost paralyzed last year when, against all odds and common sense, I found myself with three simultaneous job offers. This is why, well into January, my husband and I (who is about on par with me in decision making abilities) have not only not booked our spring break. We are now questioning whether we should even go despite the fact that we agreed we would and set aside the money. I don't do well with options and choices and if that sounds horribly spoiled that's only because, well, it probably is. In a weird way, I was probably meant to live in communist Russia with my future pre-determined for me ( and if that sounds horribly ignorant, well see previous comment). And I understand why I get so frustrated now when I finally DO manage to make a decision and my husband starts saying "well, have you thought about x" and "I don't think you're thinking about y" and "are you sure you don't want to do a" as he always always seems when I make a decision because for me, making a decision is like climbing Everest and I feel like he is standing the at the top and when I finally summit, the questioning gives me a shove and BOOM, I back down on the North Col (or insert proper place on Mount Everest here and please forgive the horribly over-dramatic analogy).

Anyway that was my mental vomit for the day after months and months of silence. Perhaps as I continue to get in shape I will return to some kind of blogging...

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