This morning was full of rain, but yesterday was frigid. Which means every square-inch of ground outside was covered in thick, clear ice.
Drops fell with thuds on top of mounds of half-frozen slush that formed craters and puddles in the sidewalk. Holding my umbrella, I surprised even myself when I smiled.
I'd gone outside begrudgingly. Then I almost immediately ate shit on my front steps. For a second, I felt a lot like Harry and Marv from the movie Home Alone. I slipped and grabbed the railing, feet still running in place on the frozen concrete below me. So I went back for my umbrella and a pair of nano-spikes.
Then I went for a walk.
I've worked remotely since long before COVID normalized it. A lot of that used to be project-based, too, so I got really used to working on things at odd hours. My friend, Ethan, always said he couldn't do that—that he needed a physical place to do work that wasn't his home. To each their own. I got it, but at the same time...what choice did I have? I was working multiple jobs and had roommates; one of whom was Ethan.
Part of how I made it all work was using little tricks to "hack" my days. Going for a walk in the morning as if it's my "commute" is one I still use. I get up, shower, make coffee, and take a lap around the block. Usually there's a podcast involved. Sometimes, it's music. When I get back, I grab a mug and get to work. Then, at the end of the day, I do another lap for my "evening commute."
My therapist calls these little rituals "bookends." I like to think of them as anchors.
The thing is, between the holidays and getting sick, I haven't been getting my walks in lately. I know they're good for me, I just kind of... fell off. And, this morning, with all the ice and rain, I really didn't want to do it.
But I did.
Pulling on the studded, spikey straps over my boots, I thought of a conversation I had with a friend over the summer. It was about getting comfortable with starting something over. Like going back to the gym for the first time after not going for a while. It's so much easier to keep going than to start at day one again. That idea of "some is better than none" is how I blinked and realized I've been writing this daily email series for 120 days in a row, now. But when it came to my morning walks, I slipped.
So today, while cinching my hood in place before setting out, I made my peace with starting over again. Day one of anything, for me, is when I choose a path. Day two is when the job becomes staying on it—especially when day one had freezing rain and you had to wear nano-spike crampons so you didn't slip on the ice during your morning walk.
What's a habit you picked up that you love-hate?
onward.
Help BUDS grow by passing this along to someone who’d appreciate it. Oh, and if something clicked for you while reading, hit reply and tell me what it was.