Julie Being Julie: Reflections on my Birthday Eve

This past year I wore more green eye shadow and red lipstick than I ever have before. Most likely I also applied the same amount of face glitter. Hey, I’m still a Texas girl, and life is simply too short not to be bold and sparkle from a distance. When a young teen came up to pay me a compliment about my eyeshadow, I felt I had finally become cool.

I am still undeniably me. Even at the ripe old age of 46 when I hear a new song I like, I will play it on repeat until the members of my family are begging me to stop. And when no one is looking I will play the electric air guitar. That will always and forever be my imaginary instrument of choice.

For the twentieth year in a row, I am most surprised that I still get pimples. When I was an acne-ridden teenager I longingly said, “Someday when I am older I will have perfectly clear skin.” I’m still waiting for that day to come. However, now I’m learning how to accept having pimples AND wrinkles.

This past year my guilty pleasure shifted away from chocolate to that of squirty cream from a can. Every time I put a squirt in my coffee (and my mouth) I think, “This is living!” Now I know why Trader Joes keeps this product well stocked on their shelves year round; for people like me.

I still love what I do as a personal trainer. Journeying with people daily is even more rewarding and fulfilling now than when I got my certification years ago. It affords me the opportunity to meet the most incredible and interesting people while helping them better their health. I was blessed this year to add a Portland west side club, Hyatt Training, to train at some mornings in addition to my work at Reliquum Training with one of my best friends. 

My workouts have been consistent. This past year I have done more exercises that I enjoy (high step ups) and less that I don’t (barbell back squats). I train my shoulders and hamstrings the most, both of which I prefer to be big and strong. I find that I’m less motivated by how much weight I can load, but rather, “How will I feel tomorrow?” Like all people, my joints are less forgiving the older I become.

After overzealously maneuvering a suitcase through the NYC transit system in March, I found myself with a persistent bicep injury. Thankfully, I finally recovered six months later. I’m sure I can count the number of times I did a set of bicep curls during that period on one hand. My main form of cardio this past year was the stationary bike which I absolutely loved, as my body felt so good during the workout and after, too. Plus, I finally started wearing padded cycling pants consistently, which has made a world of difference. I ran and sprinted less than I have done in years past. I thought I would never want to give up sprinting down the street, but my ankles and knees feel so much better when I don’t. I no longer startle the homeless campers in my neighborhood with my lightning speed.

Consistently for 46 years, I still enjoy food, and struggle to not eat too much of it. This year I ended my journey with intermittent fasting, and while I try to be gluten free for my hypothyroidism, I have frequently deviated from that plan. A dear friend introduced me to Spanish Manchego cheese topped with a dollop of membrillo (quince paste). I have no clue how I have lived this long without it and most evenings you will see me enjoying tiny bits.

I am no longer cool enough to be the first to know the latest slang or catchphrase. My two witty teenagers have surpassed me, but that doesn’t stop me from trying to adopt their vernacular. While my seventy year old clients might not appreciate me exclaiming, “You a peng ting today” (British slang for pretty thing), at least I know what it means and can keep up with my kids’ conversations. 

I continued my habit of reading for pleasure and to obtain knowledge. Currently I’m reading Mary Shelley’s Frankenstein, but the most impactful book of this past year was Second Mountain by David Brooks. It affirmed how I have chosen to live my life and encourages and challenges me to invest in others through relationship. It is one of the few books that I will ever read twice.

This past year I accepted a little bit more about who I am and how I come across to others. My husband and co-worker both told me on separate occasions that I was overly dramatic. (How dare they?) When two people with whom you spend the most time with echo the same sentiment, I guess it’s true. I have worked on being, well, less dramatic in my communication. That probably explains why I’ve started wearing green eyeshadow to balance it all out.

I was more artistically creative this year as I learned how to draw with the Procreate app on the iPad. It was definitely my favorite product of the year and has helped in the development of my website. Relationally, I took a leap of faith with my husband and two friends when we started a community group through our church, which gathers every fortnight for food and fellowship. Six months after we began, a regular and beloved member who had been there from its inception unexpectedly died. It’s amazing how death changes a group and draws you close so fast. 

Probably the bravest thing I did this year was go on antidepressants. For the last 25 years after having a nasty bout of mononucleosis in university, which turned into Chronic Fatigue Syndrome, I had been undeniably exhausted. Every. Single. Day. No matter how much I slept, how much or little I exercised, or how much stress was present, I was so tired. My exhaustion had stayed like a defiant houseguest whom you try desperately to get rid of. And when you couple the physical exhaustion with my overactive brain, which often resembles a Jackson Pollack painting, it lead to frequent moments of overwhelm. When my beloved husband suggested I might have a chemical imbalance, I found the hardest step to be the first one: calling my doctor to make the appointment. Several months later on medication, my brain now resembles a slightly less busy Wassilly Kandinsky painting: bright, colorful, and active. I no longer constantly fret about the supposed impending earthquake or obsess over every little weed in my backyard. The joke in our house is that Mum and Gary (our hyper Toy Fox Terrier) are both on the same medication.

The absolute greatest side effect of my medicine and biggest gift of my 45th year has been the elimination of my daily and never-ending exhaustion. Even my doctor was surprised that now I can get up in the morning without wanting to go back to bed two hours later. It is the best I have physically felt in the past 20 years and I am grateful for the medicine. It has taken me awhile to get over the stigma around mental illness, but I am coming around.

Free from exposed and painful bondage this year, I certainly feel more thankful this birthday. I feel a little (maybe a lot) more broken and bruised, but somehow I am more whole. I know I am forgiven and unconditionally loved by my Creator, and even though I have failed miserably in certain areas, I have seen more moments where God has used my shortcomings to display His goodness and make life more beautiful. This time next year may be radically different, or it may be relatively the same. I don’t know which, only time will tell. But tomorrow, I will be thankful it’s my birthday. And I will wear red lipstick and green eye shadow.