(Not from Sam; my own mountain photos because I don’t have his permission to post his pics on this blog…but I hope you like these! They’re from Colorado on my trip last May…)
Good evening Outlanders. We’ve now started the second-half-of-first-season watch (186 days!!) and, I don’t know about you, but I am trying to make it through!!
While this isn’t strictly about Outlander (books or series), or about any news that directly applies to it, I was struck with a realization that nearly knocked me out of my chair. All morning I was thinking about the pictures that Sam Heughan posted on Twitter. When that man sets his mind on something, he goes and gets it! As he takes the world by storm as the amazing Jamie Fraser…
…he is conquering the Munros and terrain of his homeland. And, through the magic of Twitter, we are along for the ride. It’s a very cool thing to watch because we really do feel like we’re with him. We want to see the pictures because we’re right along with his progress. We’re cheering him on. We’re walking with him (though after the last set of Munros I think I’ll drive behind in the Jeep thank you very much. I’m tired!!). Even though we’re on hiatus, we’re still experiencing the country he is proud to call home, a pride that we saw leading up to the Vote for Independence.
As he strives to conquer every Munro in the beautiful country that is Scotland (and being quite successful I may add), My Own Munro is knocking at the door, reminding me of not only what I’m NOT doing to make it happen but that I need to do it.
Ok, there isn’t a literal Snarkland Munro; there are no Munros here on the Great Plains of the United States (though there are quite a few nice peaks and valleys here in Missouri).
Besides, who would name a Munro Snarkland anyway? Heck, who would name themselves Snarkland? I’m still asking myself that question.
But, for me, the Munro had been knocking for awhile. The drive, the determination was being kindled but, as I see Sam proudly standing on yet another Munro he’s bested, it’s become fully ignited (along with other things…oh come on, don’t tell me you weren’t as well) and I realize:
IT. IS. POSSIBLE.
(How’s that for emphasis??)
Which brings me to the reason for this blog post. I’ve decided to tackle, with both hands and every inch of my body, soul and love of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups (can I get an AMEN?!?) my Own Private Twin Peaks. Ok, ok, not nearly as creepy (or exciting) but my Own Private Munro does have two peaks, two different sides to the…um, well…mountain: the Obstacles and the Goals.
And if Sam can achieve his goals, I can achieve mine, right??
Goals (And All the Pretty Things That Go BLING)
You’ve just gotta love New Year’s Resolutions. For a lot of people the mere formation of NYRs are as inevitable as death and taxes, as necessary as breath in lungs. But for a lot of those same folks, they are just as quickly smashed, a bit like when you leave your toddler alone in a china shop. Tis just as expensive as well.
“Get another job!” “Lose weight!” “Move to Portugal!” “Stalk the man you’re obsessed with until he comes gravelling at your feet but before he gets a restraining order!”
Ummm…yeah, not that last one.
I could go on and on as to why the resolutions are broken but that’s not why I’m here (besides, that would mean I’d have to hold up a mirror to myself and, frankly, I just don’t want to do that). A long time ago I consciously stopped making New Year’s Resolutions because I recognized I couldn’t follow them. Life gets in the way. Family gets in the way. (Lack of) money gets in the way. Chocolate gets in the way. As a result, I’m left making unconscious ones, most of which involve me growing six inches taller, losing a bunch of weight, suddenly winning the lottery and wondering exactly how I would spend my morning in my palatial Lake Como villa. With the gorgeous pool boy named Paolo. Sadly I have yet to achieve any of those goals (“Where are you my Paolo?” I wail into the dark, dank night…).
For Sam Heughan, his goal IS the mountains. And he takes hold of his goal with a headstrong determination that has spurred me even more than I was before. Suddenly I want to see personal goals realized, especially goals with some sort of physical manifestation. I want to see the fruits of my labor right in front of me (or, for Sam, the fruits of his labor are the majestic views in front of him when he reaches the top of another Munro, and the checkmarks on his list of Munros to bag).
But first one has to ask themselves: what is MY Munro? What is my goal… and, on the flipside, what is my obstacle (Munro)? What is the Munro standing in the way of my goal?
But, in all honesty, that was never a question of mine because my goals are ones that I have kept tucked away in my subconscious, much like, say, a Pocket Jamie in your purse. (AWESOME! How about a Pocket Munro for a Pocket Jamie!! Pretty soon we’ll have enough Pocket…people and things… that we can produce our own Outlander series. Ok, who’s with me?? YouTube movie!! )
Are those crickets I hear??? You don’t want to do that?? But… if someone can put 12 hours of constant crickets, we can do a Pocket Outlander Production.
Well, we’ve gotta do SOMETHING over the hiatus…
186 DAYS PEOPLE!!
Anyway, my goals have been there but… the obstacles have been too much, especially some days. First, though, you may ask what my goal is. Well, it’s not something as exciting as swimming with sharks or as interesting as going on an archaeological dig in Machu Picchu. It’s certainly not vital to the survival of the species and I’m not looking to cure cancer though I wouldn’t mind doing that. (My science and math skills suck; best leave that to people who know how to multiply.)
But it’s important to me, no matter how insignificant it may seem to others. And yours are just as important (or should be) to you.
My goal is to get, and stay, healthy.
YAY! I’ve just stated my goal. Now… what is growing on the nasty Peak of my Munro?
Obstacles (Or Those Ugly Little Trolls with the Flaming Arrows)
Not only do I have a thyroid issue, I also have PCOS, or polycystic ovarian syndrome. I’m quite surprised by both the number of women I talk to who have never heard of it, and the number of women who have it and struggle with it like I do. I don’t mind talking about it; it’s an imbalance of hormones that, well, can make a woman’s life a living hell, messing with everything from depression to weight gain to blood sugar.
(Come to think of it, I have a thyroid imbalance as well. So all my chemicals are out of whack. Could that explain the road rage I get when people, who normally have a modicum of common sense and intelligence in their daily lives, turn into jackwagons as soon as they sit behind the wheel of a car? No, wait, jackwagons. Ok, not my fault.)
Actually, the laundry list of PCOS symptoms is so long that we’d be on this blog forever. But it has made every aspect of my life just one flaming ball of misery after another. And do you know whose fault that is?? To a point, it’s not the PCOS’s fault I’ve been miserable. It’s not my family’s fault. Nor my gene pool’s. Nope, not the economy’s either. Not even Justin Bieber’s fault (who knew??).
It’s my fault I’ve been miserable.
I chose, for a long, long time, to simply ignore it and **hope** it would go away (as if wishing would actually make something happen). Every single symptom that’s reared its nasty head has been an obstacle, one that continued to beat me down. It’s done nothing but make my life that much worse. On top of that, I didn’t have the support of doctors. The doctors I saw just kept passing me off to other people, and I wasn’t getting any guidance. To them they knew what I had but they didn’t lay out any course of action. And, for my part, I wasn’t standing up for myself. I wasn’t taking the preverbal bull by the horns and making the proper doctoral changes in my life. This denial went on for way too long.
Until, after a rather terrifying event, I said, “SCREW THIS. ENOUGH is ENOUGH. I’ve had it. I’ve got to take control of this.” And I did. I went to a new doctor who is so determined to get me on the right track that her passion to do so surprised me. Honestly, I never knew a doctor to be that determined to get me better. We’re working together. We’re trying things. We’re being PRO-ACTIVE. I’m taking advice and am following it (no matter how resentfully I handle it). It’s with her encouragement and determination that I found my spark… and Sam’s determination that’s fanning it to a full flame.
So, while Sam is bagging Munros and being just being altogether awesome during his time off, I am determined to cross My Own Private Twin Peaks (my health) and stand atop my Munro (goal): a healthier, happier, snarkier Snarkland. Once I reach this goal I will be able to accomplish so much; I’ll be able to reach other goals, goals I hadn’t thought were attainable. It truly is a domino effect.
And so now I ask again: what is your Munro? Is your Munro the goal? Or is your Munro the obstacle(s) holding your back from your goals? Because, believe you me, there is no Fairy Godmother with a Twinkle Wand to POOF! your dreams, goals, aspirations, whatever they are, into existence. If there is she missed my house… and she owes me a pool boy!! And a model’s beach-ready body. And…
And thank you, Sam. Keep those Munro photos coming because, whether you realize it or not, you’ve got millions of screaming females following you up the Munros and through the thistle-laden valleys of Scotland. And do you really want to disappoint us? Surely not.