I’ve never been one for New Year’s Resolutions. I’m of the mind that if there are changes to be made, one shouldn’t wait for a particular date on the calendar to make them. However, I do love the metaphorical clean-slate the new year provides. Even though Sunday is no different from Saturday, something about turning the page on another year can feel like opportunity.

While I’ll not spend the last few days of the year making lists of things to change about my life, the last few years, I’ve been more intentional about taking a look back. About taking stock of the year that’s closing, remembering the good, honoring the bad. It’s a habit that started with my running logs, I think. I love adding up mileage totals for the year, looking back over race results, considering the effectiveness of my training, comparing the totals and results. Since I’ve been unwell the past three years, that exercise hasn’t been as fruitful. I’ve been running and racing much less, and the results of the races I do run are expectedly mediocre. So, I’ve found my mind wandering and expanding the exercise to a more holistic inventory. I value acknowledging the light and the dark, as it is the contrast of experiences that sharpen the focus.

Compared to 2015, which I’ve come to refer to as a forest fire, 2016 was pretty solid. A bit of context…for me, a forest fire represents a year when everything goes wrong, to the point where every narrative you’d written for yourself gets burned to the ground. To complete and total ashes. We all experience forest fires at some time or another. Enough things come undone to the point where the path you’d envisioned for yourself is so clearly not where you’re meant to be, or not even possible anymore. Like an actual fire in the forest, this tearing down creates space for a rebirth and makes room for experiences that wouldn’t have happened without a major reorientation. Growth of a different kind. My fire was personal-illness of a family member and continued major challenges with my autoimmune condition- and professional. But, without 2015, there is no 2016. And if 2015 was a forest fire, 2016 was sunshine on blackened trees, delicate flowers poking up through scarred earth.

Highs

In January, I found a new physician. By the end of 2015, I was as sick as I’d ever been with my Hashi’s and starting to feel like there was no way out. But I took a chance on a physician based in Chicago, a functional medicine M.D. who, according to her profile, specialized in holistic approaches to managing autoimmune conditions. My expectations were low, but I was getting nowhere with western medicine and had nothing to lose. Twelve months later, I’m thisclose to remission. I have a doc who not only has deep knowledge of my condition and how to treat it, but who lives with it too. She’s a true partner in healing.

With my not-one-minute-too-soon recovery, we took several trips. Nothing makes me happier than wandering around in the wilderness with my most-favorite person. We visited Breck in February, Zion National Park and St. George in May, and made two trips with my family to our favorite beach this summer (Cape San Blas, FL).  Also, I met some of my running friends in New Hampshire for a relay in September. Thanks to what I suspect was food poisoning, my running was crap (literally), but the weekend spectacular. Side note – Zion stole my heart. If you haven’t been there, put it at the top of your list, you won’t regret it.

Professionally, fall brought a new, unexpected job opportunity and I begin working for the local health department in early November. I love my work, have wonderful colleagues and get to make good use of the knowledge gained during the challenging two years at my job in Fort Collins. The stress from that job is what triggered the flare of the autoimmune condition, but it’s also a wonderful kind of alchemy, because without that work, I wouldn’t be at the health department. Funny how that works.

Lows

With much gratitude for all that was good in 2016, I leave this year missing a piece of my heart. In early August, we said good-bye to our sweet Sadey, our trusty companion of 15 years. We knew her time was short this summer, but losing her left a void that will never be filled. I miss her velvety ears, her begging for butt scratches, the pacing on the hardwood to get our attention. We’d only been married three years when we brought her home, and in her sweet, quiet way she taught us how to be better humans. I’m so grateful she was ours.

I closed out the year with a freak accident, breaking a bone in my foot on a trail run with my sister. I spent several weeks on crutches followed by several more in a boot. I broke my foot 10 days before starting my new job. BAD TIMING. Once I was finally liberated from the boot, I came down with a lingering head cold, from which I recovered only to get the stomach flu. Other than a few random workouts squeezed in between bouts of illness, I’ve been sedentary for two months. I’m a great candidate for a Couch to 5k program. 🙂

2017

As I mentioned, I’m not one for resolutions, but I do have some intentions for the coming year:

• Continue towards remission with the autoimmune condition. I need to make the dietary changes my doc recommended a year ago, which will go a long way towards getting me over this last hurdle. My procrastination on this is unexplainable, but typical.
• Reclaim my identity as a runner. I haven’t run regularly since the end of October and it’s making me a bit crazy in the head. I hope to run lots and lots of miles in 2017.
• More adventures. A few are already scheduled…we’re going to Breck in a few weeks where we’ll be taking a snowmobiling tour for the first time (in addition to skiing and snowshoeing), and I’m attending the Wilder running and writing retreat in Oregon in May. (Still totally geeking out about the retreat!!)
• Take chances. The last few years have unintentionally been about getting really uncomfortable. Good stuff has come from it and I want to be mindful about continuing to take risks. Growth and transformation is hard, but so completely worth the discomfort.
• Be present. As an introvert who lives in her head, it’s really easy for me to go about my days totally distracted. I’ve been working to be more present in whatever I’m doing, whether that’s talking with a friend, cooking food for the week, working on a puzzle, or sitting in a meeting. It’s REALLY hard. But important, I think. Put down the phone, turn off the TV. There’s so much I don’t want to miss.

Whatever your approach for the new year, may you spend it with the people you love the most. Wishing you health and happiness in 2017!