It’s all in the numbers

The amount of panic I feel when I’m told “the math doesn’t math” is both comical and terrifying. My head begins to scream ‘please don’t ask me!’ I like to believe I’m decent at math I am but not for fun or anything. I do the words. Not the numbers.

Imagine my mood after 2 days of number things. Crap mood, mental exhaustion, indescribable tiredness. And people really do this for a living? Whackadoo.

I like to imagine those are potato chips surrounding a laptop hahaha

The antiquated Air Force, and other branches I suspect, has done us no favors when data analysis is the actual future. I need numbers to justify decisions, to request funds, to build a business plan. The paper records we’re meticulously coveting? Not a useful format. So I spent days building templates for these paper numbers, to feed into a digital thing so I can perform trend analysis.

It was a huge undertaking. And my mood suffered immensely.

Interestingly, those who have a deep love or passion for numbers are considered methodical, even predictable. I don’t know if I completely buy into this; however, I will admit the numbers people should be very thankful it comes naturally to them. Because the rest of us? Well, I have a few new gray hairs.

_____________________

I ask you –

What are your thoughts on spreadsheets and Excel and numbers?

(The post It’s all in the numbers first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Grow out loud

…and why I don’t.

My “Aunt Mary Catherine” flower

I am very aware my social media presence is a source of contention. But I have a few good reasons.

First, it’s unsafe. Constant posting is triangulated to where you work, what you do, who you interact with, how you spend your time, your associations, your family members, etc. And I resent the fact I can be triangulated using someone else’s social media. I didn’t ask for that. I didn’t agree to it.

Second, along the same lines as numero uno, it unfairly creates a profile of my family, notably family members without social media, especially those too young to engage in it. They should never be held to whatever standard I inadvertently created for them in a growing digital world. Employees, educators, and acquaintances have access to them. And it can be used against them. Just no.

Third, growth happens in private. Behind closed doors. Recognition of growth is admirable, celebrated. I’m all for it! But not at the expense of what quietly achieving my goals is worth to me. So I’ll share the nuggets, the brief glimpses, but the big reveal comes when I’m ready, comfortable with the outcome. Not as a response to what I “should” post.

Not posting has nothing to do with shame, or hiding. For me, it’s all about protection of my peace, my family, and my growth. Conversation with others happens when electronic devices are silenced, the focus shifts, and real connection is made. It’s a hard lesson – to be willing to escape societal norms but I’m finally starting to understand it’s where real peace lies.

And wherever there is peace is where I want to be.

_____________________

I ask you –

How often do you post on social media?

Do you inadvertently (or intentionally) post family members?

(The post Grow out loud first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Not that kind of pilot!

I’m constantly humbled by opportunities to share my PhD journey. And I’m even more thankful to the military for the opportunity to obtain it.

Every chance I get, I tell people what the military did for my education. I have a $200K degree I didn’t pay for (in the traditional sense). Sure, they also paid a whopping $500K for my specialized military training. I’m easily worth 3/4 of a million dollars in education which makes me a billboard of information. However, what good is information if the people who need it don’t have access to it?

Which leads me here –

A week learning and growing into a role I see as mine for the taking. Attending a pilot course is a lot of pressure! Every day was a new pivot to absorb information, analyze data, or learn about myself. From resilience to SWOT analysis to mission/vision statements, every tool is available to be successful.

I genuinely believe every flight chief, activity manager, or leader at the course was willing and open to learn new things. Yet willingness is a funny concept. Not haha funny. For the 18 of us there, there are an equal number who may be unwilling to change. Perhaps even unable to change. Don’t shoot the messenger.

Many installations run the gamut from well-organized to actually in serious trouble. I heard some horror stories. I also heard stories of kindness and care. That’s the organization I want to serve

___________________________

I ask you –

When was the last time a training poured into you?

(The post Not that kind of pilot! first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

April Recap

Still consistently completing at least one intentional movement session/workout per day. Even some regular 3-per-days! Looks like those midweek dual sessions are a standard occurrence which tells me my workload on those days isn’t as heavy as some others. Or…by the middle of the week, I’m in desperate need for me time. Bingo.

While I was in San Antonio, battling the heat and humidity, Garmin proudly proclaimed my heat acclimatization. It is absolutely wrong but I appreciate the encouragement.

Most days my hair started out contained, even mildly on point. By the end of the day, the alpaca look reigned supreme. I forget the humidity differences between north and central Texas. Glad we’re in May so it can really ramp up.

I didn’t get in a run on the first day of the month, or even the second, but I’m back in a routine. I’ll report back soon! Be very afraid.

___________________________

I ask you –

How was your April?

(The post April Recap first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

99 Years Young

Truly, I believe everyone has those showstopper moments. Those moments in life so powerful they could bring you to your knees, and they run the gamut of emotions. Joy, pain, sorrow, grief. The list is endless.

Aunt Mary Catherine is my showstopper. I’m sure I could name other people or experiences with similar ease yet she was my first. And dare I say best.

These photos mean everything to me. “If pictures were possessions, these would be my most coveted.” I never want to forget the feel of her hand in mine. I never want to forget her smile. I never want to forget the recognition in her eyes despite the inability to verbalize my name. The feel of her lips against my hand as she kissed it countless times, the feel of her soft cheeks against my own lips, the numerous I love you’s back and forth. The love I have for her nearly brings me to tears. But all I could do was smile.

As her voice now fades to a whisper, I promise her to sing with my whole heart, the beautiful, showstopping baritone voice she has but only a memory in my mind. Yet, when I sing, I lift my voice as strongly as hers.

Although some of her sentences were the ramblings of years of thoughts and memories which have become tumbled onto endless paths, her eyes are still so alive with important things to share, observations of an intelligent woman who still desires to serve others.

And her sense of humor is off the charts. She offered to get up from her wheelchair to let me “use the car”. She also said “I reckon we could leave but they might catch us”. Fortunately for the women in my family, and unfortunately for the men, we tend to outlive our counterparts, spouses, and anybody with testosterone.

But if you ask me about the most profound thing she said, I’d tell you this: “I’m waiting on my husband to come get me. He says I’m not done here yet.” Selfishly, I want her here 99 more years. As impossible as it is, every moment with her is a blessing and she is the true heart of love I envisioned when naming mini. My showstoppers.

———————

I ask you –

Who is your showstopper?

Who is the oldest living person in your family?

(The post 99 Years Young first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Now What

The last few weeks have felt like a massive punt. A ginormous swipe left on everything. I don’t have time for this, for that, for any of these things. Delegate, relegate, and set a reminder to follow up. Frankly, it was overwhelming and disheartening. I couldn’t keep it together.

Thankfully, the tides turned. I was able to breathe again. Nothing felt crushing. Must be perimenopause. But did I really have to go through all that?!

Photo by Brett Jordan on Pexels.com

‘Tis the seasons, right? We become complacent in having it together, then we’re hit with a crushing wave of every little thing at once and we lose sight of the sky above our ocean. Fortunately, this is normal. Shrug. Last week, I leveraged connections for a senior leader panel and, as I listened/moderated/tried not to laugh too loudly, I realized (again) this is where I belong. Every decision, every consequence, every moment has led to this. No one’s path is the same. According to those leaders, even they hadn’t imagined this was where they would end up. Sure, they had goals. But when they met the goal, they looked around and asked “now what?” The same thought has been my season for a short time. I’m here…now what?

It seems this post has come together better than I expected. Now what. It can be a question, a statement, or an exclamatory response. Perhaps the way the punctuation is shaped indicates how we react. Tone tells a story. Be present now. Right now.

_____________________

I ask you –

What season are you in now…personally? Professionally?

What will you do with it?

(The post Now What first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Celebratory (Cup)Cake

10 years total as active duty + civilian! I’m blessed to have the perspective of both sides of the uniform and two different military branches. There was nothing easy about either; however, I make a better civilian than I did in NWUs.

This seemingly rickety bridge has been around longer than 10 years. Probably 100. As you can see, the Wichita River is flowing courtesy of the recent rains. As several of us volunteered to set up an obstacle run, the Texas-sized mosquitoes tried to carry us off. We prevailed.

Surviving an incredibly long, stressful, packed week warranted ice cream and cupcakes. The ice cream? Meh. I think Cookie Two Step rates much higher on the “you gotta try this” scale. Brookie A La Mode just didn’t do it for me.

The star of the show was the cupcakes. I’m not sure if I ever mentioned it before, but when I was stationed in Pensacola my first year in the Navy, my best friend, Sam, turned me on to Kimberly’s cupcakes. Who knows how many cupcakes were consumed as we tried them all. All. I don’t recall ever eating a bad Kimberly’s cupcake. It’s the perfect blend of frosting and super soft, moist cake. They are divine. When I lived in Virginia, I could still purchase Kimberly’s cupcakes. However, upon moving back to Texas, I only recall seeing Kimberly’s cupcakes a handful of times in the local grocery stores. It’s been at least 5 years since their last sighting. Until now! A new (to me) grocery chain recently opened and they have Kimberly’s cupcakes. This will not end well.

I didn’t set out to celebrate 10 years with the customary ice cream and cake yet somehow it found me when I needed it. Thanks, Kimberly, wherever and whoever you are.

_______________

I ask you –

Have you ever tried Kimberly’s cupcakes?

What are your thoughts on the Blue Bell flavor?

(The post Celebratory (Cup)Cake first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Moments of Resilience

Turns out I’m allergic to patterned carpet. Dramatic much, Kel. Obviously I’m not allergic. More like averse to it. The patterns are optical and often symmetrical enough to prompt a very dizzying effect. Hotels, classrooms, and educational training sites often utilize this type of carpet which really causes issues with my brain. Or equilibrium. You know what else causes all the sneezing? Beautiful, resilient, blooms, like these flowers. How can something so gorgeous create so many issues?!

CMSgt Fabrienne Burnett

This incredible woman made a few last minute stops on her way to retirement and I was so humbled to be a part of her waypoint. You see, she just returned from deployment in a war-torn, volatile area. Sure, she’s done her fair share of deployments but the emotion I felt in her presence was stained with exhaustion, and dare I say, an undercurrent of hurt. The sheer fact that she took it upon herself to say goodbye rather than fading into R&R without a rear view speaks volumes of her commitment. CMSgt Burnett is one of a kind. I’ve seen some good ones, but she is a great one. And to say she will be missed is an understatement. At a recent commander’s call, our commander asked for a raise of hands to indicate who knew or had been impacted by Chief. Nearly the entire room had a hand raised. As I looked around at the faces of those with their hands up, it was apparent the impression she had made. People were smiling. And that’s what people did when they saw her in her office, out and about, in their spaces. They smiled. She cared. And she will be missed.

All this to say, the empathic part of me accepted her emotions. As the day went on, I kept coming back to those emotions, visible in her eyes and the long hug – needing connection, stability, and a listening ear. The next day, I had grand plans to run, to do things, to be productive. Instead, I couldn’t find the energy. I knew if I didn’t sit with the emotions, my mind and body would eventually force me to do so. When it hits, there’s no pause button, no “please schedule a time…”. So I sat. I rested. I felt. This is the resilience we often speak of. The acknowledgement to ourselves we are strong, even when weak.

Even as the flowers are beautiful, they are equally resilient. If only my nose was the same.

________________

I ask you –

Have you someone in your life who embodies the core of resiliency?

(The post Moments of Resilience first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

I Sit Alone

I’ve started, restarted, paused, abandoned, and now wait for the finality of a draft post, titled The Day I Had Coffee with Her. Some time ago, there was a social media trend of the same title, basically stating what you would tell your younger self. A few posts that came across my feed were very deep, mentioning trauma and abuse, while some just shared encouraging memories. I jumped on the proverbial wagon, but I didn’t finish it. Yet.

In a way, this is my homage to the unfinished post.

I sit alone. And I am unafraid. Never lonely. Yet alone. Some events make me question myself. Some even bring back very tough memories or experiences. Some I thought I was over. Turns out I’m not. So I sit alone with the pain.

Even when the fear ebbs and wanes, I am unafraid. Fear is psychological and I am aware of my limitations, my weaknesses, my inability to turn away from feeling it. Fear is not failure. And words do not own me. So I protect me by sitting alone.

Those old patterns are tempting. Too easy to return to my old ways. But I know every curve in the road, every pothole waiting to derail me. Swerve. I sit alone, in the driver’s seat, in control.

It’s lonely at the top. When the decisions rest on my shoulders and hard news is hard on everyone. I sit alone, pondering how much easier it would have been to gloss over the truth, to abandon what must be said. I could invite others to sit with me. Yet the consequences are far too great. I sit alone out of self-respect.

I’m not sorry for choosing to sit alone, when the choice is mine. I’m not a failure for sitting alone when the choice is made for me. Sitting is an opportunity to rest. And no one knows me better than me. So I sit alone.

________________

I ask you –

Are you familiar with the “Coffee with Her” trend?

(The post I Sit Alone first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)

Expand Your Mind, pt 3 – The Pareto Principle

The Pareto Principle aka the 80/20 Rule

Named after economist Vilfredo Pareto, the Pareto Principle states 80% of results are from 20% of causes which implies only a small amount of the minority is actually driven by the majority. This disproportionate principle is often viewed from the people standpoint, i.e., 80% of the work is completed by 20% of the people. So what about the remaining work and/or people? Well, this is where life is not fair. Equal distribution is a myth, much like the term “balance”.

Businesses would lead us to believe that rewarding the 20% encourages the remaining percentage to do better. No such evidence exists. As some are more motivated by consequences, it is difficult to tell if these are positive or negative consequences. Nonetheless, it can be quite frustrating to be the 20% completing 80% of the work while the remaining workforce contributes little. Wealth distribution was Pareto’s basis for this principle, which relied on statistical tools. Today, many believe the Pareto Principle is manipulated and, therefore, not the universal principle originally touted.

One area where the Pareto Principle is applicable is time management. For example, working for 40-45 mins, then taking a 15-20 min break. Yes, I know it’s not 80/20, work with me here. Most training curriculums mimic this style because studies have shown the attention span is approximately 11 minutes and taking a 10 min break every 60 mins encourages physical and mental reprieve.

I won’t say this one is the most interesting. However, I will say it’s the most common (to me). In a rapidly changing society of differing generational norms, I was raised to work hard, to own my behavior and mistakes, and to strive for the top. It does not seem this way anymore.

More to come!

________________

I ask you –

Without adding “but” or “because”, ask yourself – are you the 80% or the 20%?

(The post Expand Your Mind, pt 3 – The Pareto Principle first appeared here at Running on Fumes.)