Why do we wait until the finish line to celebrate? From deadlifting to writing, big goals require a lot of hidden scaffolding. It’s time to beat perfectionism, focus on long-term trends, take off those sunglasses, and start giving yourself credit for the daily steps.

After six days on the road, I was anxious to lace up my sneakers. But a walk meant to bring peace quickly turned into a battle with comparison and judgment. A reflection on injuries, healing, invisible rucksacks, and learning to walk in my own shoes.

Our backyard abuts a Natural Growth Protection Area. We have a very vocal pack of coyotes, some swooping owls, and a fluffle of bunnies as neighbors. (At the risk of angering the highly vindictive crows, isn’t a  fluffle so much nicer than a murder.) A veritable zoo of native species has passed through over the years feeding my natural fascination with the behavior of animals. Watching them gives me great insight into myself and human nature overall. With spring inching its way in, the songbirds are returning to build their nests.

I check the weather report every morning. It will come as no surprise to anyone who knows me that I do not simply listen to the report on the news. I check the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration’s National Weather Service website. Doesn’t everyone? I’m not planning to scale Mt. Rainier or do a little ocean kayaking. I just want to pick the best time for a walk and make sure I am dressed appropriately. Imagine my delight today, when I read 46° F and increasing clouds. Even with the windchill, it would still be above freezing.

Last spring, I wanted to be Fredrik Backman. I don’t mean famous. Or Swedish. Or brilliant. Or a guy. No, I wanted to be the writer whose words could cause a quinquagenarian former high school principal, not prone to emotional outbursts, to weep openly in an auto repair shop full of men to awkwardly examine the ceiling tiles while praying  for their trucks to be done soon. I’ve been devouring his work. His novels knot my heart and mind until I can’t unravel where all the feelings start. I have to pause and do that Navy Seal breathing strategy from TikTok just to be able to analyze how he can turn ten ordinary words into a tornado of universally felt emotion.

“The bluest skies you’ve ever seen in Seattle." That lyric, from Bobby Sherman’s theme song to Here Come the Brides, has been stuck in my head since I was five years old. It is so true and so not true. And I am grateful that it is both. Last night, my husband and I took advantage of a late summer breeze to sit on the patio.

We are strongest where we are broken, AND when we advocate for ourselves, face the problem, and support each other.