5 Things Financial Struggle Taught Me (Thus Far)

I’m not poor. Low income, I guess. Ever since I met Laura, the single, Mexican mom who was raising her four children on $400 bucks a month, I’ve known I wasn’t poor. I’ve even climbed my way above the Canadian poverty line, now that i’m a pill-maker by trade (the legal kind).

But I’ve struggled lately–partially because I still don’t make a lot of money, and partially because I dream big and publish novels, and partially because I’ve tried to look like I’m not struggling. Well, time to be honest. For the last six to nine months I’ve barely gotten by. Its one of at least four spells of financial hardship I’ve lived through–others included college and unemployment–and now that they’re passed I look back on them with a measure of pride.

Financial struggle is a hard taskmaster, but it does impart valuable lessons. Here are 5:

Never Give Up. I’ve often reminded myself that though things may not be comfortable, I will not starve. I may lose my job, my apartment, or my car, but I will live through it, and I will come through it stronger. One day, this will be a good story, so don’t give up.

Be grateful. Ingratitude will only dig the hole deeper. HECK YES! I dug my financial hole in part because I was materialistic, unsatisfied with the many good things i had. I’ve learned much about gratitude in the last six months, but I have a long way to go.

Being resourceful is like being a hunter, artist, and a mathematician at the same time. Fellow Mennonites may have the same pastime of cruising the grocery store, hunting for those pink ‘30% off’ stickers. This is how I bring home meat for my family. I hunt it!

I love the show Masterchef. In that show, the contestants are often given a ‘mystery box’ full of food items, and told to cook a gourmet meal with it. That’s a bit like shopping on a shoestring. Here are my odd items of meat and (eureka!) 30% off mixed greens. What healthful, tasty dish can I make from it? My meals are sometimes simple, but I’m proud of the healthy lifestyle my sister and I maintain on a tight budget.

It’s like being an urban survivalist, in a way, and it’s something to be proud of.

Ask yourself, “What can I do right now to help myself?” I lost my job in spring 2012 under bad circumstances. My confidence suffered to the point that when I tried to revamp my resume, I cried to my Mom “There’s nothing I’m good at.” And because she’s my Mom, she was able to list things off. Looking for work slammed my wavering self esteem over and over again. But, as my bank account dwindled, I forced myself to do something every day to find a job. Meanwhile, to pay the bills, I posted on Facebook that I was looking for odd jobs. I painted a lot that spring. I mowed grass. I took on casual work as a gardener. Every week I scraped together the money to pay my bills.

In my most recent financial hardship, I drew on this experience when I was low and desperate. I’d ask myself: “What can I do right now to help myself?” This translated to selling things on Varage Sale (any clothes I didn’t need, books I wanted to keep but I knew would sell, and even Christmas presents I didn’t like…sorry!), working overtime, and, once again, doing odd jobs.

Once again, by God’s grace and hard work, the bills are paid.

You can still do great things. Dreaming big can be expensive, but it needn’t be. I published Sons of Earth for about $600 bucks, for instance. I ran my first three 5K races in $80 dollar shoes, and cheap athletic gear.

In my city, Library memberships are free. Thrift stores are packed with cheap books. You can get free podcasts on whatever topic you want. This means you can get an informal, self-directed education for almost nothing. Sure, you don’t get a certificate on your wall, but you can study whatever your passions are and become a better read, better spoken, productive citizen without the approval of so-called experts.

You can give up a couple hours a week to volunteer with a church or organization, babysit your little cousins or neighbour kids, or visit the elderly. In doing so, you can leave a lasting impact on your town.

In the last financial struggle, it was impressed on me that this was a lesson, and I needed to learn. If I didn’t learn, this would keep happening, and happening, and happening. I needed to acknowledge my greed and materialism and swap it for gratitude. I needed to stop taking the easy way out, to work hard, and to be resourceful.

Above all, try not to worry. It’s not helpful.

The Bible says, “Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?” (Matthew 6:25-27, New International Version)

You Can’t Skip the Process

“You can’t skip the process. You can’t shortcut the process. You can’t speed up the process .You have to go through the process” –Pastor Kris Duerksen, this Sunday morning.

Ugh, how I love-hate the process. On one hand, the process is glorious. I have it emblazoned on the header of this blog: “Life is a grand adventure, or nothing.” It could also read, ‘If you’re not struggling you’re not living.” There is something exhilarating about the tension of being far less than what you see yourself being. You’re not comfortable, but at least you know you are alive. Your aching muscles keep reminding you.

My clothes are laid out for tomorrow’s tempo run.

But if you’re like me, you think you should have your life together already, know what I mean? In example, how long does it take to get my finances in order? Can I just expect to be broke for the next ten years? Why can’t I muscle my way into a better monetary place? Well I am, sort of, in a better place than even two months ago. Still, it’s hard to believe I could ever rise above.

The quote above reinforced in me this idea: It’s no use beating myself up about it. I’m such an expert at self-flagellation. I remind myself every second minute that I’ve yet to reach my goal of perfection. But I can’t fix (insert problem here) by guilt-tripping myself. I’ve got to keep powering along, trusting that each incremental change takes me closer to freedom. I also have to trust that God is working in me, and that even though I’m tired, he isn’t. He won’t give up on me.

So, with that in mind, here’s a motto I picked up along the way. “The only way to go back is to go forward.” I utilize this during longer runs, when I’m still at the pre ‘runner’s high’ stage and asking myself why I’m doing this to myself again, or near the end when my legs have had enough. “Well how will you get home if you don’t keep going, huh?” You don’t get home by sitting there. You don’t get better by bailing on the process.

The process is sometimes fun. My first couple weeks of half-marathon training were fantastic. I longed for the end of the workday when I could hit the gym, or the pavement. But now I’m stressed, and kind of terrified. I think it will become fun again.

There’s only one way to find out. “Once more unto the breach!”

Who Will I Become on the Way to This Half Marathon?

I’ll run my first half marathon in June. It’s the Manitoba Marathon, a run my Grandpa did many times (both full and half). I have patchy memories of going to see him cross the finish line, so in my head I can already picture what that looks like.

For me, the idea struck when a relative announced that she was going to run/walk the Manitoba half. In fact, she was already training. My ire was piqued. What? She was going to run a half marathon before I was? She wasn’t even a runner! Cue googling ‘Half marathon training plans for beginners’, ogling the course map, and visualizing running into that stadium, where I’d seen my Grandpa cross the finish line many years ago. I felt a cascade of excitement.

I could do that–I could!

Allow me to confess that over the winter I’ve slacked off. I’ve run twice a week most weeks, since late November, in increasingly shorter lengths and slower times. My confidence was down, due to some really bad runs. I was ready to push my limits again, to chase again. I wanted to find out who I’d need to become in order to run the half.

So I downloaded a plan, and got started. And here’s what I know so far.

I Must Redeem All the Time I Can

I’ve pared my plan down to four workouts per week, since at the moment I just can’t do five. Still, that’s a heck of a lot more time than two runs per week. I came into training knowing:

• 1. My writing must not slack off. I’m about to publish again.
• 2. I can’t neglect my family and church community.
• 3. I can’t neglect my spiritual life. God must be in even my running.

So how do I do that? Well, I’m not sure yet. Last week involved training myself not to hit snooze, since that gives me 18 minutes more for morning prayers and scripture. This will become a habit… eventually. I have to plan meals (and cook meals) well in advance. I have to make a to-do list and squeak those chores into five and ten minutes chunks of time. I have to write blog posts in the waiting room at the doctor’s office (like this one!).

Efficiency will become my middle name.

Likewise, I need to maximize my rest and relaxation time. Resting is growing, waiting is training.

I Must Endure the Pain

“I’ve signed up for four months of chronic pain,” I whined to my Mom.

And I don’t know the half of it yet, I’ll wager. The last three weeks have been one long pain fest as my winter-softened muscles adapt to extra miles and a new strength training routine. I curse my third-floor, no elevator apartment. My family and coworkers are tired of hearing me complain about my sore muscles. After all, I did it to myself.

But it’s a good kind of sore.

And Why?

Because I want to know what it feels like to be that strong–physically and mentally. Yeah, I’m stressed and my legs, back, shoulders, and arms hurt. But the optimism and drive of having a huge goal is addictive.

Who will I become?

13 Ways to Know You’re Winning (Be proud idealists, be proud)

I offer this up as my gold star for you.

I am a hopeless idealist, an admittance I am both ashamed and proud of in turn. Life has a habit of knocking the stuffing out of me, and sanding off my shine. Yet I do my best to hold up my head and look for the best in myself and others, no matter how much the cynics scoff and complain.

So, to my fellow idealists, here is a quote I’d like to share to remind you that no matter what your scoffers say, you are a winner.

Oh gosh, doesn’t that sound cheesy? Be proud, idealists. Be proud.

Dr. Denis Waitley said:

“The term ‘Winning’ may sound phony to you. Too materialistic. Too full of A’s, or luck, or odds, or muscle-bound athletes.

True Winning, however, is no more than one’s own personal pursuit of individual excellence. You don’t have to get lucky to win at life, nor do you have to knock other people down or gain at the expense of others.

‘Winning’ is taking the talent or potential you were born with, and have since developed, and using it fully toward a goal or purpose that makes you happy.

Winning is becoming that dream of yourself that would fulfill you as a person with high self-esteem.

Winning is giving and getting in an atmosphere of love, cooperation, social concern, and responsibility.

Winning is coming in fourth, exhausted and encouraged–because last time you came in fifth.

Winning is giving yourself to others freely.

Winning is never whining.

Winning is treating animals like people and people like brothers and sisters.

Winning is turning all the cards up in solitaire–without cheating.

Winning is picking up a beer can you didn’t throw on the beach.

Winning is being glad you are you.

Winning is habit forming. (So is Losing.)

Winning is unconditional love.

Winning is a way of thinking–a way of living.

Winning is all in the attitude.

Talent is cheap. You can buy it, and recruit it. It’s everywhere. The world is full of talented alcoholics.

Education is not cheap, but it’s for sale and for hire if you have the time and money. You can get your BS, MBA or PhD. You can panel your den with diplomas. But the world is full of educated derelicts, unable to relate to supportive roles with others.

Not aptitude.. attitude is the criterion for success. But you can’t buy an attitude for a million dollars. Attitudes are not for sale.

Not all individuals are born equal. Some are cursed and some are blessed by their hereditary uniforms. Equality is not Nature’s way. The equal right to become unequal by choice is the natural cycle.

All environments do not breed and nurture the winning spirit. And yet, how often we are witness to living examples of greatness springing out of adversity…

Attitude is the answer.

Your attitude toward your potential is either the key to or the lock on the door of personal fulfillment.”

From The Psychology of Winning.

Hope for Those of Us Without a Degree

If you’re like me and never finished–or never started–your degree, and now feel like you missed the bus, I’d like to encourage you with this quote by business leader and author, Chris Brady:

“Those who deliberate, dilly-dally, hesitate, ponder, get bogged down in analysis, or have to be sure everything is perfect before taking action might do a very good job at what they do; they just don’t get much of it accomplished… It is almost always the go-getters who become the biggest leaders. To lead implies action, and leaders are people of action. There are usually people who have more talent, more time, more connections, more means, and more information than the leader, but the leader emerges to influence events because he or she takes action while others hesitate,” –Chris Brady, Leadership Lessons from the Age of Fighting Sail. 

I spent four months working with a gentleman with a masters degree in physics. His wife has her masters in mathematics. They are immigrants, and in the courageous way of immigrants, they took the jobs they could find so that they could begin a new life. So he is now a pharmaceutical coating operator like me.

But I do feel woefully undereducated, with my two-year diploma in Biblical Studies, when I compare myself to him. I’d love to have a degree–heck, in almost anything. In fact, I’d be a student for life it just paid better. But circumstances don’t allow that right now. Sometimes I get an inferiority complex because I don’t have the education, it seems, to do anything other than manual labour.

But there is something I do have: initiative. According to Mr. Brady, that’s a big part of being a leader. Initiative: something that doesn’t require a student loan, four years of school, or a certificate from the government. It just takes courage and action.

In a caveat, Brady says, “This is not to imply that all leaders are reckless or reactive–though some may be–but rather that leaders err on the side of decisiveness. Over time, the tendency toward action builds ability, so deficiencies of talent or means are eventually overcome.”

Or deficiencies of age, as I continually remind myself.

So, if you’re undereducated like me, take heart because, “There are usually people who have more talent, more time, more connections, more means, and more information than the leader, but the leader emerges to influence events because he or she takes action while others hesitate.”

By the way, can I just say that if you can get your hands on a copy of Leadership Lessons from the Age of Fighting Sail, do it! Anything by Chris Brady is worth reading, and this latest release is a thrilling way to learn leadership principles. If you are a history buff, you’ll love it. Find it at his blog, here.

Things We Suck Happiness From

Coffee addicts know that tea is no substitute for the ‘real thing.’ After six days without that rich, brown nectar of heaven, I know this for sure. I don’t know how much caffeine tea has in it, but not enough to stave off the headache and muscle ache of withdrawal.

Poor me. 😉 I’m sure going to enjoy my big cup of coffee tomorrow.

Last week I talked about how I’d given up TV for the majority of the month as a way to purge clutter from my life. This week, I added coffee to the list of banned things. When you start to equate a good cup of coffee with true happiness, it’s probably time.

It wasn’t long before I regretted it.

When I work day shift, every evening is scheduled for an appointment, or spent frantically cleaning, cooking, doing laundry and trying to get my writing done. As a homebody, I don’t like these weeks. I just want to be at home in front of my laptop… with coffee. I was sick with a cold this week. I also had a lot on my mind–mostly stuff I can’t go into. While normally I can deal with the stressful schedule at work, this week I often developed shortness of breath and chest pain by the end of the day.

Normally I’d go home, sit in my easy chair with a cup of coffee and watch a few mindless YouTube videos. During the day, I sometimes hold out that chair and coffee mug like the proverbial carrot in front of the donkey. “Just a little farther, and then you can have it.” But this week I’d get home tired, sick and weepy and none of my ‘medication’ would be there.

I grew up thinking that people with real problems used alcohol and drugs to numb their pain. It’s become uncomfortably obvious that most people have their ways of self-medication, inane, ‘harmless’ things to make them feel better. It’s not bad to drink coffee, or watch TV, or drink a glass of wine. But many souls like me use these things like patches instead of facing the real issues.

Then, when we take away our crutches, we fall. We’re sad. A girl I know talked about how sad she was when she gave up sugar and sweets for the month. It was her birthday, and she couldn’t have cake, and she was depressed. You can also observe how upset people get when the weather is rainy in the summer, or frigid in the winter. Are we really basing our happiness on externals like that? Yes, that is the primary way humans attempt to bring happiness into their lives.

What is the alternative? I would posit two–with the caveat that I’m just trying to figure this out myself.

Chris Brady said, “To be happy, you’ve got to give happy.” That is to say that when we’re feeling low, we need to take our eyes off ourselves and bring happiness to others.

Second, we need a solid internal constitution, or foundation of principles to fall back on when our externals fail us. What is our anchor?

Personally, I need to learn to seek out Jesus as my friend, constant companion and life giver. There is no switch I can flip to learn that, but in the bleakness of the workweek, there were sweet moments when I paced back and forth in front of my coating pan or crashed in my comfy chair and prayed. Even if what I prayed was pathetic things like “make me happy, pleaaase.” 🙂

The 5th Day Without TV

I don’t own a TV, but I do own an iPhone. Therefore I have perpetual access to YouTube.

I am addicted to YouTube, or at least nearly so. It is a pitiful thing. Since my sister and I got wifi in our apartment, I also can stream my favourite shows, and due to the video rental store a block away (archaic, I know) I need not ever lift my head from the screen.

And for the last few months, it seems I didn’t. I’d come home from work, meaning to read, write, or do something useful. But I’d be tired and sit down ‘just for a few minutes’ with my laptop. Before I knew it, it would be time for dinner (or two-thirty in the morning depending on the shift).

So, when I was challenged to a ‘media fast’ as part of my church’s ‘Month of Prayer and Fasting,’ I knew exactly what I needed to do. For those who are not of religious background, ‘fasting’ traditionally meant giving up eating for a time. Many Christians have expanded the definition to mean laying down a good thing (such as food, TV, coffee, etc.) in order to concentrate on prayer, and to submit that thing to God. For the next month, Monday to Saturday I may not watch TV, movies, or YouTube.

Today is the fifth day. And you know? i don’t miss it–not really. I mean, it’s Friday night and often that meant watching a movie with a snack and coffee. Tonight I’m home sick from work, and I’m on a the couch anyway, so a movie would be lovely. Tonight, I do miss it. I’ve ‘settled’ for a radio version of Les Miserables (no singing–yay!).

Every other day, I’ve enjoyed the freedom of having no choice. It sounds strange, but the worst thing about watching YouTube as much as I wanted was the compulsion. I couldn’t seem to resist it. So now my mind is made up for me. And also, I was the master of multitasking. In fact, it seemed I couldn’t concentrate on writing without a YouTube clip or a TV show playing in the background. Now I enjoy music, or silence instead. On the whole, my head feels clearer and I’m more productive.

But we weren’t challenged to fast from media to clear our heads and make us more productive, any more than we’re challenge to fast from food to make us lose weight. Here is the question: have I been using TV and media as a God-substitute? I realize after the fact that watching TV after work was just novocaine. It was a distraction so I didn’t have to face my issues. It was an easy way out.

Does one month of fasting fix this? I don’t know. I’ve never tried this before. It’s my hope that after a month, I’ll be able to enjoy movies and YouTube in more moderate doses, and to REALLY enjoy them without guilt because of it.

Pain and Gain: A Canoe Story

What can a canoe portage teach us about New Year’s resolutions?

it was a muggy August day. Above us, grey rain clouds had blocked out the sun and left us to the sticky heat and the mosquitos.  We’d spent the weekend with a troop of teens, camped on a tiny island in the middle of Mud Turtle lake. Now my cousin Starr and I, the two female chaperones, pulled our canoe up on the far shore for the return trip.  But first, we had to make the one kilometre portage to the next lake.  Across that lake was where our vehicles–where civilization–was.

We were eight canoes, and the strong young men had enough to carry without the extra burden of our canoe.  I looked at Starr. “I’ll carry it.”

We’d portaged it halfway on the trip into Mud Turtle before one of the guys had taken pity on us. This time I wanted to go the distance. Our guides had coached us how to arrange our backpack as a platform the canoe could rest on. I’d prepared my pack for that purpose. So I shouldered my hiking pack and Starr helped me lift the canoe. They were cheap, fibre glass canoes–heavy to carry and hard to steer.  I staggered a little as my backpack bit into my shoulders.  Behind me, Starr hefted her pack, plus my extra baggage.  We started walking.

I forged ahead like a beetle, the canoe on top of me like a shell.  The point of the canoe shoved through the undergrowth as my feet navigated the narrow, climbing trail. I had already been sweating, now it poured down my back.  One of the guys passed me with his canoe over his head like it weighed nothing.

“Are you okay?” Starr asked behind me. The pots and pans she carried rattled together.

“Yeah,” I gasped.

A third of the way down the trail I stumbled.  Off balance, I dropped the canoe into the short bushes beside the trial. I groaned and rubbed at my shoulders.  My brother came alongside. “Do you want me to take it?”

“No!”

He helped me pick it up, and I began to walk again.

My shoulders were in agony.  The backpack was carrying the full weigh of the canoe, and transferring it through the straps into my tender flesh. I balanced the canoe with upraised arms, but they were turning to mush.

Two-thirds across, I heard my little brother’s voice.  “I can take it the rest of the way.”

But I was almost there, and I knew it.  “No!” I grunted, “If you take in now I’ll have all the pain and none of the reward.”

So I carried that canoe until I finally saw the silver water of Brereton Lake.  The path turned into a steep descent toward the water. Finally, I dropped the canoe. I’d done it.

All Pain, No Gain

My back was stiff and sore for days, and my shoulders were purple with bruises.  But that’s not what I remember. It’s that phrase: “I’ll have all the pain and none of the reward.”  Whatever pain-stricken, divine inspiration it came from, it stuck with me.

“It hurts. I’m tired,” I say in the fifth mile of my 10K.  “No, you’re too close!” If I quit, I get all the pain and none of the reward. Same thing goes with other challenges. Like at my job, I’ve went through a few season mistakes and lost confidence as I strained to learn and pushed myself too far. “Quit” came to mind. But I’d already had so much stress, and learned so much. If I quit, I’d get no reward. Eventually I overcame my challenges, and gained new influence and skill because of it.

Learn What Kind of Pain it is

Pain is a warning sign. It can’t be denied that if you are in pain, be it mental or physical, you are ‘red lining’. You’re nearing full capacity, and it may be time to back off.

Part of learning to run has been learning to discern what is just stiffness that will pass, and what is the early onset of an injury. For instance, I find that in the first couple miles my legs will be vaguely sore and I’m tempted to say, “This sucks. This hurts.” But by now I know that it will pass as the runner’s high takes over.

I’ve made some mistakes, such as running with a lung virus or pushing myself too hard on a pre-work run, and being sick during my shift. I ran with patellofemoral syndrome much longer than necessary, because I didn’t know something was actually wrong and that it could be fixed easily enough. A coach might have prevented much of this.

So I’m not telling you to be reckless.  But if you resolved to get in shape this year, and you’ve been hitting the gym, you are probably in the ‘all pain, no gain’ stage. Well suck it up, buttercup. If you don’t, you’ll have gone through all that pain for nothing. Give it a few weeks, and it will get better. Two weeks isn’t that long in the scope of things. And then you’ll also have increased flexibility, strength, weight-loss and mental sharpness. Do you really want to succeed? There is no magic bullet. You have to put in the time and endure the pain.

Is the pain worth the gain? Then don’t drop the canoe.

Someone is Watching You (So keep going)

“No runs in a vacuum. There is always someone watching you leave the house, dig it out, come back, and do it all over again. You are being watched by a roommate, a brother, a spouse. The driver of every passing car. You are being watched by future generations. My grandmother ran in college! someone might say of you one day. My great uncle took it up in his 30s and ran marathons into his 60s! We are inexorably entwined within each other’s influence. You may run by yourself, but no matter how early you start, no matter how remote your location, you never run alone”–Mark Parent.*

What he doesn’t say, but implies, is that you are a leader, simply by being a runner. Someone, be it your roommate or the dog-walker you blow by on the bike path, is watching you sweat and hurt, and grow strong. Not all, but some will say “I want to do that too” and will lead healthier, happier lives because of it.

But don’t stop at running, because not all can run. Do you work hard? Do you help others? Do you chase your dreams with courage and ambition? Someone is watching. My aunt opened her own business when she was my age, someone might say, so why can’t I? My friend published a book, so I can too. My Dad worked hard and provided for us, and I want to be like him. “We are inexorably entwined in each other’s influence”.

I hope this encourages you like it did for me. It’s only January 3, but some of you may have broken your New Years resolutions. Pick yourself up and try again tomorrow. You just might inspire someone to do the same.

Also, a big thanks to those who’ve encouraged me lately by telling me how much they enjoyed my book, or that my posts have been an inspiration to them. You add spring to my step!

* “A Mile in His Shoes,” Runners World, February 2010.

I Believe in Resolutions

“Cat: Where are you going?
Alice: Which way should I go?
Cat: That depends on where you are going.
Alice: I don’t know.
Cat: Then it doesn’t matter which way you go” (Lewis Carol, Alice in Wonderland).

Is this the year you actually do it?  Woah, let’s not get crazy now.

Heaven forbid you make a New Years resolution, and it actually happens.  The apocalypse might come right then.  Hell might freeze solid.

Most of the conversations I’ve had about New Years Resolutions have been sheepish, defensive and short. Someone is making resolutions, otherwise the gyms wouldn’t be full in January. But I guess they don’t want to talk about it. I get it. Will power is a fickle mistress. Put a bag of chips in front of me and I’ll prove it to you.

But I still believe in resolutions. A year is too much time to waste, and how will I truly accomplish something if I don’t even know what I want to do?

Last year was the first year I made hard, fast resolutions.  I wrote two pages of them.  I accomplished about half.

Some were miraculously successful. I made the stereotypical resolution to lose weight. I wrote down the number I wanted to see on the scale, lighter than I’d been since graduation. But I didn’t have much hope, I think. So it’s a miracle that I’ve reached December at that weight-loss goal, thanks to Trim Healthy Mama and a lot of hard work.

I prepare to lace up for the first time.

This brought a surprise with it: running. I didn’t want to run. I was sure I couldn’t do it. But when a friend I met through Trim Healthy Mama goaded me to train for a 5K in August, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was the kind of crazy I needed. I bought a pair of shoes and downloaded ‘Couch to 5K’ onto my phone.

Two months later, I ran my first 5K. I was in love. I ran three more 5Ks. November 1st, I ran 10 kilometres for the first time and now run that distance weekly. Resolution #1 for next year? Run my first half-marathon.

I also set a goal to release my first book. It was late, but We are the Living was published at the end of the summer. I’m proud of it, and I learned a lot. I’m now almost done my next novel.

Where I failed was finances. I think my goals were realistic, but I made some bad choices, and some things didn’t go the way I planned. The time wasn’t wasted, because I learned a lot and gained humility.

Will I make resolutions for 2015? You bet. I’m in the midst of thinking and praying and drafting a list. I encourage you to write a list too–if nothing else, to help you remember what you’d like to do this year.

Here are a few pointers.

1. Make the goals specific. If you don’t know your destination, how will you know when you get there?  For instance, instead of saying “I want to run farther next year,” I wrote “I want to run the Imagine Mental Health Half-Marathon”.  That gives me a place and a time. The goal is measurable.

2. Make it reasonably attainable, but not too small. In order to run a half marathon, I need to double my distance. I’ve never even run a 10K race. But, I’ve already doubled my distance once, and I have a training plan I can implement. It will be a lot of work, but if I’m healthy I can do it. It’s realistic, but I’ll need to break it down into small steps. I can’t do it all at once.

3. Make a time-limit or deadline–even if that is just ‘by December 31, 2015’. Build in some urgency.  For instance, I know that I need to double my distance by mid-September in order to attain my half-marathon goal.

4. Make it fun. I wrote a whole list of random things I wanted to do this year: go to Folklorama (a cultural festival in Winnipeg), go catfishing, go to the symphony, cook Christmas dinner for my family, learn a new skill, make a new friend and so forth.  Just a bucket list of sorts that I’d be disappointed if I forgot to do.  I learned a new skill, and I made two new friends. I didn’t go to the symphony. But there’s always next year.

I would suggest making goals in various areas of your life (i.e. finances, fitness, family and friends, faith) but not too many. 2 pages may be too much. Finally, write this all down and reread it many times during the year so you don’t forget.

Ultimately, plans change and some of the resolutions you make at the beginning of the year will be unimportant at the end.  But a year is a lot of time to waste, so why not figure out what ‘time spent well’ looks like to you, and resolve to make this a year of growth.