First Day of the Rest of my Life

I started this blog on September 17^th, while recovering from Covid-19 while traveling in Europe.

 

Today is the first day of the rest of my life. It truly is time. My focus needs to be on taking care of myself. It’s time. I’ve been writing blogs for nearly 15 years, give or take. I’ve written about life, about work, about triathlon and training. I’ve written about what matters, about who I am, about what drives me. Fifteen years ago, I crashed my bike during the Long Course Triathlon World Championships in Perth, Australia. I remember taking that as a sign to slow down. For a brief period of time, I did slow down. But then I sped up again. I know that this pattern has repeated itself on several occasions. I can’t seem to get out of my own way. In many ways, the situation has actually gotten worse over time. I remember the things I wanted to focus on when I retired for the first time. 

 

In fact, I remember waking up the morning after I sold my practice nearly 14 years ago. I realized that I hadn’t dreamed that night. I’m someone who processes in my sleep, and when I’m consumed with work, I dream about it. That night, a huge weight was lifted off me and I didn’t dream. I woke up that day with the thought that “I didn’t want to fight anymore.” For many years, and possibly most of my life, I feel like I’ve been fighting. Whether as a young person writing a letter to President Johnson to end the war, fighting with my father to win arguments, fighting for the success of my businesses, or lately, fighting with people on social media over world events and politics. I really don’t want to fight anymore.

 

There were things that I found enjoyable at the time. There were things that I wanted to do for myself. On one hand, I was able to pursue my triathlon and Ironman dreams. Beyond that, however, I’ve struggled with the concept of doing enjoyable things for myself. There seem to be fewer things that bring me personal joy. I’m pulled into the rabbit hole of trying to make a difference for others instead. I know it’s the wrong path, yet I seem to have fewer and fewer options. Maybe that’s the point. 

 

So much of my life has been about trying to “accomplish” something. Most of that has been with the purpose of helping others. My “drive” has always been the key factor in most things that I do.  Acting on my impulses has been the determining factor. The irony is that I act “in the moment,” although I have trouble appreciating being in the moment. But I do know what those moments are. Perhaps it’s the adrenaline that has caused me to forget them.  

 

I’m realizing that the things that used to bring me joy are still out there. I just need to embrace them again. One step at a time. One thing at a time. I know that I can still do things for myself and appreciate those things. I don’t have to spend every waking hour trying to make a difference for others. That’s what I do. That’s what I’ve always seem to be doing. It’s more difficult when one is successful. It’s time to let go. Today is truly the first day of the rest of my life.