She was a green composition book.  Noah’s freshman Hebrew notebook to be exact.  There were still a lot of blank pages,  and those folders in the middle to stick things that you want to remember.   August 2011, I was searching for something to keep track of it all when I found her.

I have intended to keep a journal or diary many times but never seemed to follow through.  I started diaries as a kid, only to write a few entries and then find it months or years later under my bed.  I tried to keep a book of the cute things the kids said, but kept forgetting to write them down.  I was supposed to journal my meditations when taking a Mussar class with Richard but couldn’t remember to meditate much less journal about it.  The notebook was different…

17 months ago, I just needed to keep track of it all.  I was 42 and learning how to do something I never thought possible.  Every day was monumental and new.  I was so proud of my progress.   I just had to write it down.  I was learning how to run.  Sounds simple or silly maybe, but I never ever thought I could.   So I went scrounging around the house for a notebook and there she was, waiting for me.

Before I knew it, that damned notebook went everywhere with me.    I would drag her anywhere, in front of anybody.  No shame.  A security blankie of sorts.  Reassuring me that every step was there in writing.  I was really doing it and I had proof.

She has kept track of 17 months of my life.   She contains every mile I have run.  1135 to be exact.  Every single workout.  Including a total of 3285 push-ups, 28 hrs of swimming laps, and 296 minutes of holding plank!  She recorded a marathon run and a marathon missed. She includes my first and only Official race.   A  year and a half of intense change and growth.  Weight lost, muscle built,  hard work done, self worth restored.   She holds stories written along the way.   Lists of goals, dreams, marathon training programs, articles and every other relevant piece of info over the past year and a half.  Oh yeah, and Noah’s freshman Hebrew notes (which are a constant reminder there is much I do NOT  know).

I filled in her last blank page on New Years Day.

I went hunting for another notebook this morning, but nothing seems to be able to fill the shoes of the old green girl.  I have come to the  conclusion that intending to journal is not the correct approach.   Rather, finding something…a practice of some kind, that means SO much to you that you are willing to drag around an old green (used) notebook to keep track of it is the better way.   Somewhere along the way she stopped being old and green and used and became something sacred.    A witness to the journey.

Phillip Booth writes, “How you get there, is where you will arrive”.

One day at a time.  Little victories adding up.  Self compassion for the roadblocks and potholes.  Belief in the ability to progress and change.  Hope that it makes a difference.

And another notebook to ride shotgun.