A Decade Later
A decade ago, Ragnar 2010 served as a catalyst, catapulting me into a new sort of lifestyle. I started one of those pre-Instagram blogs under the penname of Sarah Finding Fit, and reading back through it this last week was a fun way to look back at the decade summed up in snapshots. Some highlights:
I ran a lot, adventure raced, crossfitted, melted, folded and found some sort of deeper trust in myself.
My crazy hair went from very short to long – but is still mostly blonde.
Dark brown eyeliner and melty mascara are still my standard makeup choices.
I rucked through the night with bricks in my backpack.
I met this boy and we bought a house… which we renovated and sold. Then we bought another home – still in DC – but it has more rooms and makes me feel like a real adult.
Thousands of dollars later and I can finally do pull-ups.
Homesickness for my family and the Roc is still always very real. I visit as much as I can these days.
I balanced grad school with life… and eventually, I graduated.
With age came some wisdom, and perspective, and self-love.
Age also gave me the opportunity to play ball hockey with some amazing and inspirational women on the USA Masters team twice (in Canada and Bermuda).
I still play a lot of ball hockey.
I now wear a little black diamond on my left hand.
Bone spurs and a jacked-up thyroid (along with all the fun that comes with it like hair loss and weight gain and exhaustion) slowed me down, but didn’t knock me out.
I traveled. And hiked. And hiked while traveling.
Getting lost in nature soothes my soul – so do sunrises and sunsets.
A very wiggly bulldog connected my family and filled my heart… and I miss him.
I still drive a black jeep and driving top down, music blaring is - to quote Maren Morris - “my church.”
Food is a spider-web of truths, memories and reactions… it’s a loaded mine field that I’m still navigating.
I now make my own kombucha and know far too much about the impact of plastic.
Washing my face at night and using moisturizer is finally a daily routine.
The older I get, the more I wish to be surrounded by people who knew me when I was young.
I believe in less stuff and more experiences.
I’ve laughed, a lot – especially with my brother, family and Dave.
10 years at my company (woah) and I finally believe that they can live without me… it’s liberating.
I’m still super introspective and like to be right.
I busted my shin on a box and overcome some silly mental fear of jumping back on top of it over and over again... seems metaphoric.
I’ve gotten better at dropping the self-judgement and worry about the exterior “look” of me.
Laying out my clothes the night before helps me feel less stressed in the morning.
Older (and sorer), I’m still finding proof in the sum of small successes.
Every New Year, I get a little knot in my tummy. The hype of resolutions and the unknown of the future make me anxious and painfully nostalgic - “for auld lang syne.” I’m always sad to say goodbye to the past year. I hate letting go. And I want always want to freeze time… Go back and re-live the best moments. I tend to look for the things I may have missed along the way or play “what if.” But every year the clock strikes midnight, I usually shed a small silly tear, and then go forward.
It’s important to see the past not a shadow, but an inspiration. The image in the rear-view mirror helps point out the long-term success and self-growth. It’s jet fuel on days when I feel stalled or plateaued or even knocked down. Even when it feels small, there is always some aspect of me that’s better than I was yesterday. I’ve taken some next step, or gotten the opportunity to do something new. That’s why I’ve decided that today I’m going to try and post occasionally back on the blog. I can’t promise to post the best photos, or stories, but I hope that I can at least share some highlights of the journey, how I live my practice of growth and work to develop my version of wellness. Like a time capsule for future me.
This was a great decade and I’m hopeful that the next will be filled with strength and love and laughs and happiness… the determination to never say ‘can’t’ and the will to continue adventuring.