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I have been struggling with a topic to post for my first blog post. Essentially this was an excuse to keep me from having to actually start something. Fear lost tonight. I have my damn topic: Fear

I joined my Mom's Relay for Life team and, much like this blog excuse, I have been waiting and waiting (and waiting) to get my account setup and start collecting donations. Finally, with nothing else in my way tonight I did it. Then it hit me. I needed a goal. I don't like money goals. It takes away from the overall feel good feeling of doing anything for me. I realized that my Grandfather is WHY I didn't even think before telling my Mom YES to the relay. I don't need a money goal, I tossed $250 in the box without thinking and moved onto the real goal: miles.

I called my Grandmother to ensure my numbers were correct, and they were. My grandfather battled cancer for 9 years before it won, and 5 of those years he didn't think he would have. I experienced 9 years of subtle changes in his behavior. He never gave up until the end. I remember it because I was lucky enough to have vacation time saved up. He made the decision that he was done. His quality of life was no longer one that could jump into his big Tractor Trailer and ride. He was no longer able to walk up to the barn and putter around on some engineering masterpiece. Through it all he never seemed to let the fear win. To him it seemed to be that beautiful anachronism Face Everything And Rise.

Let's bring it back to me. His almost 30 year old granddaughter who was too focused on the fear of "what if" to actually start anything.

If you're reading this, you're aware I gave myself a pep talk and got to work.

Why do we hang onto the fear? What is about not starting something that is so comfortable? I don't find it comfortable, but when faced with that first step not starting takes on the feeling of being a blanket burrito on a rainy morning when you don't have to get up and go anywhere.

I hope that you will continue to join me as I take small first steps in a lot of areas of my life. Starting with however many steps my fitbit tells me 9 miles are. A mile for each year he battled cancer is a tall order, but he was a tall man.


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