For two weeks I’ve been writing a blog in my head to mark this 2 year anniversary.

I have plenty of anger filled words. But that has been done already.  While running on a treadmill the day before my birthday, a big grin came upon me.  I know exactly what to write.

I have been running / power walking at the gym all month.  Some have said I’m in beast mode.  It sure seems that way.

What is my fuel?

When the woman rear ended my vehicle two years ago, I bounced around in my car.  The seatbelt could only do so much to secure me.  I was bruised and quite shaken.

I went to an emergency care center and got a full checkup—just to be sure I was ok.  I don’t need to sacrifice my health and well-being.  That woman determined it was ok to drink and drive… and endanger my life.  I got a full x-ray and examination.  I am worth it.

The tests all showed I was ok.

But the golden moment was proving a burning question:  do I have big lungs like another family member?

I do.

So as I run, and I mean run my heart out— I take pride in my mega lungs.  I run like there’s no tomorrow.  I run like everything comes down to this very moment on the treadmilll.

While running:

1. I stare at a photo of my wrecked car.  It was paid off months before the accident.  I remember how I struggled to find the courage to drive again.  But I did.  And I’m proud of how I pulled myself back into normalcy.

I continue to run.

2. Next I escape in to my head.  I remember working 50+ hours on a presentation for my grandfather’s funeral.  I started on a Monday and finished it around 2 or 3 am on Friday. One of the nights I didn’t go to bed—I just worked all day into the night… into the morning…into the afternoon…into the evening….

No. It wasn’t healthy or wise.  But it had to be done.  I put my faith in God that I wouldn’t die from exhaustion or lose my mind.  I plowed forward, not thinking about being tired.  I sorted and organized photos of grandpa to make the best conceivable presentation in such a short period of time.  I only have one opportunity to do this and I’ll stop at nothing.

That was the hardest work I have ever done in my life.  But I did it.

I continue to run.

3. Next, I stare at a wild hare idea I executed.  An embroidery design collection that will be released soon.  My drawings.  My team’s digitizing skills.  My boss’s willingness to let me execute my crazy, wild hare ideas.

I keep running.

In the end, that millennial who stood stoically as her parents yelled at her to no avail and didn’t have a word to say to me— is probably about the same person now as she was then.  Selfish. Self-centered.  Spoiled.

Sure she might have changed.

But just like running your heart out, executing wild hare ideas, working for 50+ hours to create a presentation for grandpa…  it takes work.

Mazel tov.