2 Dec 2011

Lying, Cheating, Quitting: Not this time

Posted in: business travel by Amy

[I need to go back and look at the calendar to add up the miles between posts, but I ran all 5 days this week on a treadmill in Taiwan.]

As a little girl, I played Monopoly with my younger sister. I often lied, cheated and quit.  Of course it was my turn, I was always the banker and I decided when the game was over.  I was 10.  Ok, maybe 12. (She stopped playing with me at some point.)  I just wanted to win.  I was bigger, smarter, stronger … so why shouldn’t I be the winner every time?

I thought about this as I ran on the treadmill next to my dad this week, and realized I will fall short of my 1,000 mile goal.  Every day this week, I’ve been reminded that my dad does not lie, cheat or quit.  He’s worked hard every day – often spending hours on the road and many nights away from home –putting one foot in front of the other even when failure seemed imminent.  He’s defined and redefined success and what his goals are throughout the years.  He welcomes change.  He is not afraid of a little shit (figuratively and quite literally).

I am now 31 and rather than pad my miles, add a few 2012 runs in or quit, I’m owing up to it.  I will not reach my mile goal, but I achieved many others.  I’ve run in 4 different countries (5 next week when I’m in China), over a dozen states, in multiple cities with dozens of different people along the way and completed my first marathon, as well as a half, too.

Inspired by my dad, I will not quit trying.  I might not get in the 10+ miles I’d need to reach 1,000 by the end of the year, but I will continue to chip away.  I’ll reach out to those around me to join me in a run.  I will bundle up, and hit the road.  I will not lie, cheat or quit.

Dad, I love you. – Amy

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6 Apr 2011

In the Weeds

Posted in: business travel by Amy

Monday, rest; Tuesday, 4miles on a trail in Queenstown, New Zealand

Along the path of Lake Wakatipu in Queenstown, New Zealand I realized the view is always so much better with perspective.  I heard the water lapping against the shore and was caught off guard by the snow-topped mountains and crystal clear blue water.  The bright houses dotted the hillside and the shades of green patched up the mountainside simply amazed me.

As easily as I wandered down the path along the lake, I wandered down my own memory lane.  I thought about the journey I’ve been on that led me to AmeriCorps, Jim, Neva, Holly, Boise, Peace Corps, China, Thailand and Washington, DC.  These are all people and places that hold an important place in my heart.  It all started in 2003, and 8 years ago I could not have imagined that I would be on the banks of a lake in New Zealand recounting their importance in my life.  Something dawned on me.

I’m in the weeds.

In 2003, if someone would have said, “You will be working with your father and selling waterbeds for cows internationally.” I would have laughed at them. I’ve made decisions and had experiences that took me baby steps closer to this place in life.  I wasn’t always sure of the steps I was taking and the clarity didn’t come (if ever) overnight.  I’ve been focused on how my baby steps will impact the rest of my life.  Wow, no pressure, huh?  But today, I realized that whatever is in store for me over the next 8 years will not happen tomorrow.  Somewhere between moving to DC almost 2 years ago and running along Lake Wakatipu, I forgot that important point.

I’ve been focusing on the weeds without seeing the big picture.  Baby steps are important and necessary in making the miles add up, but they aren’t everything.  If I’m too drawn to the step in front of me, I might miss the view of the snowy mountaintop.

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3 Apr 2011

No More Pity Parties

Posted in: business travel by Amy

Tuesday, 4m treadmill run in Christchurch, New Zealand; Wednesday, 7m treadmill run in Christchurch; Thursday, 4m treadmill run in Christchurch; Friday, rest; Saturday, rest; Sunday, 16m run in Dunedin

Treadmill runs are treadmill runs no matter where you are, but I felt a greater sense of accomplishment than normal after a run that came on the heels of 24-hours of travel.  I’ve struggled this week.  I don’t say this or put it online lightly.  I am honored and grateful to have a job where I am constantly challenged and supported.  I am pushed to find solutions, make connections and go the extra mile.  I believe in the product and people behind it.  I count myself among the lucky ones who wake up each morning to responsibilities they can’t wait to tackle.

But, I miss my life in DC.  I miss my friends.  I miss having a routine.  I miss my place.

Today, as I ran the hills of Dunedin I was overwhelmed by the beauty that was before me, and the amount of trust our company’s representatives put in me.  As I took in the breathtaking site of the hillsides covered with bright rooftops contrasted by the rippling blue waters of the bay, I thought about the conversations I’ve had with men who have worked with my dad for as many as 10 years and as few as 1.  They’ve shared parts of their pasts, present circumstances and future aspirations with me.  They are eager to tell me about the regional economy and as it relates to the dairy industry.  They extend their relationships with dairy professionals so I can see local farming practices first-hand.  They have invited me as guests into their homes.  I cherish these conversations and experiences although my thoughts have not always mirrored that sentiment.

Around mile 10 today, on a killer hill, I made a choice.  I will stop apologizing for traveling.  I will stop throwing myself a pity party when I pack my suitcase.  I will stop traveling thousands of miles to check my email.  I will embrace the chance to be face-to-face with people I will see once or twice a year, but who are out in barns, paddocks and community centers telling the waterbed story everyday.

What does this have to do with running?  Not much, you’re right, but it did get me through 6 ugly miles, and put me on the right track for the rest of the year.  I can still love my life in DC, but find a similar appreciation for the opportunity to meet and spend time with so many genuinely great people worldwide who are writing the next chapter of the waterbeds for cows story.  Luckily, I get to be a character in it.

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16 Mar 2011

Set Goals. Be Intentional. Allow Forgiveness.

Posted in: Behavior Change, business travel by Amy

Amy’s Runs: Saturday, 6m run outside; Sunday, 6m run outside; Monday, 3m White House run; Tuesday, 4m run to White House and to U-Street; Wednesday, 3m treadmill run in Moncton, Canada; Thursday, 3m treadmill run in Moncton, Canada; Friday, nothing; Saturday, nothing; Sunday, nothing; Monday, nothing; Tuesday, nothing; Wednesday, 3m White House run

This week is about forgiveness, and a reminder to be intentional about my schedule.  I haven’t guarded it as closely as I should, but I won’t just throw in the towel.  That’s why this is a year long goal.

This was originally posted for Sisarina.

I run, but I am not a runner. I work, but I am not an employee. I do yoga, but I am not a yogi. I punch a clock, but it does not have 8 hours. I bike, but I am not a biker. I move, and I follow my passion. I’ve been lucky to not suffer from injuries (knock on wood), and I’ve followed my heart for my “day job” around the world.

I’ve committed to move (a.k.a. run) 1,000 miles this year, and my professional passion is focused on developing the international market for my family’s agricultural business. I’ve got my hands full, but I try to remember these 3 things:

Set achievable goals.

Be intentional.

Allow forgiveness.

If you run regularly, doing the math on 1,000 miles in 365 days doesn’t seem like an unreasonable goal. And, it’s not. It’s committing to consistently run 4 miles 5 times a week for 52 weeks. When a goal is reasonable, it’s achievable. I’m slowly chipping away at my miles one day at a time, and after only 8 weeks it’s easier for me to get to 5 miles than I ever thought. I set professional goals that focus on building relationship, gaining an understanding of the markets and listening to the needs of dairy professionals, rather than solely focused on numbers of beds sold.

I guard my schedule. I’ve become better at politely declining invitations, which allows me to be present at the events I do attend. I’m mentally and physically less tired, because I’m not chasing cocktails down K Street or jet setting to meaningless meetings or conferences to fill up my schedule.

I make mistakes. I miss workouts, and I don’t always push myself as much as I should. I’m human. It happens, but just because it happens once or once a month doesn’t mean I should hang up my running shoes, lock up my bike or throw in the towel. With forgiveness comes a peace in knowing that trying is worth it. It’s worth the risk of failure, it’s worth the effort and it’s worth the pain. More often than not, there’s reason to celebrate.

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5 Mar 2011

8 Weeks Down

Posted in: AmeriCorps, business travel by Amy

Amy’s Runs: Wednesday, 90minutes hot yoga with Bridget and Molly; Thursday, 4m run outside; Friday, nothing; Saturday, 1m treadmill run in Syracuse; Sunday, 7m run through streets of NW DC; Monday, 90minutes hot yoga with Bridget; Tuesday, nothing; Wednesday, nothing; Thursday, 5m treadmill run in Reedsburg; Friday, nothing

January and most of February when I didn’t run or do yoga it was to intentionally rest.  The last 2 weeks I cannot say the same thing.  It’s simply that I’ve done nothing.  I came out of the gate strong and still feel confident that I can reach my goal of running 1,000 miles this year.  Not surprisingly, I am struggling with balancing my travel schedule and making time to exercise, but I’m also trying not to beat myself up too much.

Eight weeks ago I could run 3 miles fairly comfortably, and now I’m able to run 5 miles.  Eight weeks ago Bridget was a friend from AmeriCorps that I knew fairly well 7 years ago.  Now, we’ve built on our shared experiences of years ago and learned more about the hopes and challenges facing one another today.  Eight weeks ago Molly was just a friend of a friend.  Now, we’ve spent over 500 minutes in hot yoga classes together and consumed 50 pounds of kale chips.  Eight weeks ago I was scared of the open road.  Now, I look forward to the space, time and peace that it brings to me.

I look forward to the next 8 weeks and all the insights learned through the miles run alone or with friends.

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13 Jan 2011

Even Test Mice Have a Maze

Posted in: business travel by Amy
Amy’s Tuesday run: 3 miles on a treadmill in Wisconsin; Wednesday, 2 miles on a treadmill in Kentucky after a 10 hour drive; Thursday, 3 miles on a treadmill in Kentucky

My professional leap to waterbeds for cows has landed me on a treadmill.  I’ll be traveling a bit this year, so whether I like it or not, I’ll need to log quite a few miles on a treadmill.  As I was running this morning, I couldn’t help but think that if god had nothing better to do than see what I was up to this morning, he would be laughing at me.  Round and round on a treadmill I went.  I felt like even testing mice wouldn’t get on a treadmill and run – at least they have a maze!  I laughed at the thought of being less intelligent than a mouse and enjoyed knowing that I have a number of fun-outside-with-friends runs coming up when I get back to DC & crossing my fingers that it’s not too cold in Madison to run with Dana on Tuesday.  It also helped that Michael Franti and Spearhead’s “Songs from the Front Porch” album was the soundtrack that motivated me through 3 short miles.

I’m focusing on making running a daily habit and working on upping the mileage in the coming weeks.  I don’t want to burn out, but I also don’t want to “get behind.”  This weekend, I’m going to bundle up and hit the snowy roads of rural Wisconsin.  Maybe I can convince my mom to join me.

Does anyone have any advice for surviving treadmill workouts?

Also, my first confession:  I could have met and run with a stranger in the last hotel’s workout room, but I chickened out in starting up a conversation.  He was an older man, walking and watching “Everyone Loves Raymond,” laughing at the jokes.  I’m not sure why I didn’t strike up a conversation.  I ran my miles in silence, happily laughing along at Raymond.
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