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Archive for April, 2013

I’ve been thinking about downtime. 

I read this blog post by Fred Wilson – a venture capitalist – musing about when does he stop? At what point does he allow himself some down time? 
 
Hell, I don’t know. Both my parents are in their 60s and working a ton at jobs they love. I have no role model for retirement. But that’s probably ok, because I don’t think retirement will look the same when I get to my 60s as it did back when people could actually afford to retire. 
 
Whatever, downtime: From Fred’s blog
 
For the past twenty years, I have been in a zone where I work all the time. It has allowed me to stay on top of things and help build two venture capital firms. While I don’t take meetings or go to the office or travel on the weekends, I work a lot on saturday and sunday. The same is true of our family vacations. I find a few hours every morning and in the afternoons where I can do calls, do email, and stay on top of things.
 
Taking a couple days off and a view like this certainly makes me wonder how much longer I can and should keep up that kind of lifestyle
 
The comments of the post descend into people musing about when they’ll burn out from working 24 hours a day, stop waking up with anxiety dreams about work, etc. I’m so slammed at work right now that I’ve got three straight weeks dreaming about work problems I have to face in the morning, so I get it, but I think, arrogantly, this is where runners have a leg up (pardon the pun, and the assholic runner-centric tone this post just took.)
 
My favorite thing about working out in the mornings – or at any point during the day – is that it’s perfect me-time. It clears my head. It’s enjoyable. So much of my day is dictated by choices other people make for me – this meeting at 10, the project due at 1, etc. – that it’s nice to be up early enough to feel like I have a part of the day that is mine. By the time I get to work, I’ve already checked off stuff that I want to do from my list. It makes the demanding nature of my outlook meeting reminders – and the stress I feel when I wake up thinking about work stuff – slightly less oppressive. 
 
I don’t know what retirement will look like. I can’t really imagine it, frankly. But I feel like if I can keep carving out that hour for myself in the mornings (and, let’s be real, the bedtime required to make that early morning possible) – the point in time when I’ll feel like I need to cease working entirely keeps getting pushed further out.

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I went for a run yesterday, a nice end-of-weekend jaunt with Moose. It was just before sunset – all low light and perfect temperatures. Spring is trying trying trying to make it to Colorado, and this Sunday was the first time I’ve run comfortably in shorts and a tshirt since the start of winter. (It’s supposed to snow tonight, natch).

I’m so newly pregnant it almost doesn’t count. I think I’m still in the zone where I could have a glass of wine wouldn’t even matter except I know and since I know I can’t have it. It’s also so new that it could go poof tomorrow and would there be anything to miss? Not really. I don’t feel pregnant, except for a crush of exhaustion, a twinge here, an ache there. It almost doesn’t count, not yet.

But anyway, I went for a run. I’m tired and my ankle is killing me (the only time I ever have PT-required running injuries? I have been pregnant. So that’s nice), but I rested it all last week and like I said, great weather, pretty day, off for a run I went.

The song “Carry On” by Fun came on through my headphones at one point, the music swelling up with the chorus right as I crested a big hill, sunlight streaming down, feeling great, just me and my dog and the tiniest glimmer of hope. For a brief second, I found myself really believing it could happen, I thought  about this upcoming year in terms of trimesters and seasonal maternity clothes and honestly thinking: This could happen. This could happen for me.

Sometimes, hope like that makes me feel foolish. Who am I, to believe I could have this? How many times do I need to be reminded (silly girl) that, no, no, not for you. But yesterday while running, it seemed like the simplest thing in the world. I’m going to have a baby. Of course I am.

Carry on.

May Your Past Be The Sound

Of Your Feet Upon The Ground

Carry On

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