I am 30 years old and today I am experiencing my first snow day.
I have to say, my trip to Philadelphia so far has been exactly what I needed it to be. I haven’t written here in a while because, frankly, I had overwhelmed myself past the point of feeling like I could do anything other than breathe and try to exist.
It’s not like I haven’t done that before. I find things I like, get really into them and then overextend myself to the point in which I sit on the couch in a state of stress-induced anxiety, unable to move.
That’s where I’ve been the past month. Don’t get me wrong– the general structure of my life is great– still love my job, still have amazing people in my life– but once I started feeling good, I went too far too fast and put myself in a bad space.
Thankfully, I have a lot of people in my life who love me and help me take care of myself. I made it to Spring Break and got on a few red-eye flights to Philadelphia to see my friends Daria and Chris. I had every intention of doing Crossfit’s 18.4 Workout when I arrived and, fortunately, there is a box a two-minute walk from where Daria lives.
Of course, I was barely able to get two hours of sleep on the flight. I ended up writing and reading, so by the time I made it to Philly, I was pretty zonked.
Still, I planned to get to Fearless Athletics, until I made it to Daria’s apartment. “You know,” I told her, “I kind of wish I could nap instead of doing the workout.”
Daria looked at me for a moment, then said, “Yeah, it definitely sounds like you should do that instead.”
I thought about it. My brain screamed at me that I couldn’t miss a day of working out, that I needed to push push push. Then, I stopped, and decided that now was the time to take care of myself.
So, instead, I got into bed and slept.
The past few days since have meant some working out, sure, but also just… being happy. I slept a lot, hung out with Daria, Chris, and their adorable dog Max while watching Bar Rescue, met Daria’s grandmother, had some stupid good food (much of it homemade), and just… took a breath.
Recently, I was lucky enough to get interviewed by the 30 by Thirty Photo Project, a photo project by Erika Nizborski. She took some beautiful shots of me, and interviewed me about my experience as a thirty-year-old woman. I told her that, now, at 30, when I turned thirty, I was in the best shape of my life.
And that may be true– I certainly put in the work.
But, looking back, I don’t think I was the healthiest I’ve ever been. Health isn’t just the measure of how hard we can push, but our ability to step back and let ourselves heal as well.
So, in the name of healing, I’ve tried to be kinder to myself the past few weeks (hence, skipping 18.3 and 18.4). A few Saturdays ago, I spent the day on my couch, watching Crazy Ex-Girlfriend and, honestly, crying. I realized there were a lot of things I needed to let go of, and some things I needed to forgive myself for.
I also gave up teaching Yoga at Mango Tree. As much as I really do love teaching Yoga, I needed to create space in my life to do some other things I need to focus on like my writing. Funnily enough, the day after I quit, some exciting opportunities started down the pipeline. God is always working.
I feel like there are some things coming, but I know I have to prepare myself for them, if only to appreciate the view.
The morning after I arrived, I woke up and took a very chilly run across the Ben Franklin bridge. It was beautiful, and right before I crossed over the bridge to head back, I took a second to stop, looking around, and just appreciate where I was.
That pause is so essential, such a powerful part of experiencing not just happiness, but understanding joy. Happiness is temporary and situational. Joy is being able to appreciate your life and its bustling craziness and the beauty in the breaths before the grind. Joy involves taking stock because it is the bone-deep belief that there is beauty and magic in your life if only you are willing to wait.
So, at this pause, before I cross, I am so, so grateful, and excited to see what comes next.