3 Ways To Start Change Successfully

Changing your life can be incredibly rewarding. It can also be one of the most difficult things you can do.

Most of us start with good intentions - to lose weight, to stop smoking, to get ourselves organized. And we go out with the true desire to make the changes necessary. So much desire, that we often take on too much, or we see the obstacles ahead of us, and start losing our sense of motivation.

In the last few days, I've talked with a number of friends who are feeling they can't get past the first hurdle. They want to make changes, but can't seem to get over the hump to get started.

Here's three tips to get you past those hurdles, and on your way to succeeding!

Tip #1 - Small Changes, Big Effects

From ZenHabits.net:

Start small.

Don’t try to make all these huge changes, and change your entire life at once. It’s too hard, and overwhelming. You can’t do everything at once — you can only do one thing at a time.

So pick one thing to change — something easy. Don’t pick the most difficult thing — just the easiest. Something you can focus on for the next couple of weeks.

This is phenomenal advice. But I would expand on it further. Don't just start small - start REALLY small. Pick something that you know you can achieve without much effort in a short period of time. You'll get a feeling of accomplishment that will help you get to the next milestone.

Tip #2 - Little Pieces

This tip goes hand in hand with Tip #1. When you have a big goal to achieve, it helps greatly to break up the task into its component pieces. For example, if you're trying to quit smoking two packs a day, it's pretty difficult to make that change in one fell swoop. Instead, break it up using the idea from Tip #1. Today, leave one cigarette in the pack. Tomorrow, leave two. It's a small goal. But when you start to add them up, you achieve the ultimate goal of reducing your smoking to zero.

Weight loss is much the same way. Instead of saying "I need to lose 30 pounds", think to yourself that you need to lose two. That's it. And when you hit that two pound mark, you set a new mark of two pounds more.

By breaking the big task up into smaller components, you increase the chance of success and the odds that you'll continue.

Tip #3 - Celebrate Your Successes

We're all pretty good at beating ourselves up when we fail. What we aren't as good at is celebrating the wins. When you achieve one of your goals, hit one of your targets, regardless of how small or large - celebrate. Go to a show, have a nice dinner, do what makes you happy. And celebrate, for tomorrow, you set a new achievable goal.

But what if you don't make it there? That's OK too. Look at why you didn't make it. Did you aim too high? Did you have to rely on others to achieve? Instead of beating yourself up, look at the reason you didn't get there, and make corrections. Then try again!

Bonus Tip - How Bad Do You Want It?

The real key to success in change is to have a strong motivation. But where many folks falter is that they try to change for someone else. Noble? Yes. But it will likely be unsustainable. For true change to occur, you have to want it, and want it more than the comfort zone of not changing. I recently watched a video of a lecture by Randy Pausch where he makes the point that obstacles aren't in your way to stop you from achieving. They're there to find out how bad you want something. If you really want something, you'll do what it takes to get there. When you think about making changes, know the "why" of the change. If the "why" is strong enough, the "how" will take care of itself.

Two Weeks In - And Going Strong

Two weeks ago, I started on the path to a challenging goal: to summit Mt. Whitney during the 2010 season. If you're interested in joining me, take a gander at my Facebook Group Whitney2010. This goal would give me a year to get into the kind of shape necessary to make the 11-mile, 6,000 ft. climb from Whitney Portal to the summit of Mt. Whitney itself.

But the journey isn't just about climbing Mt. Whitney. It's about setting a challenge and surpassing it. I've done this before, over 20 years ago, when I decided to run a triathlon. I was easily 30 pounds overweight, and hadn't really trained for a triathlon before. But I started working at it.

At work, people who heard about me running the triathlon ridiculed it. Who did I think I was? They were in better shape than I was. And yet, when it came time to actually run the race, they didn't show. I ran the race, and I completed it. I was dead last. They were picking up the cones off the road behind me, cheering me on all the way. I was sore, my muscles screaming. And I was triumphant.

The victory was not about doing what my coworkers thought I couldn't do, nor about doing something they wouldn't do. The victory was about doing something that I didn't know I could do. And the feeling of accomplishment, of strength, was amazing.

So that's what the Whitney summit is about. To do something because it will challenge me, push me. I don't know if I can do it. I intend to find out.

So for the last two weeks, I have been training. I started with 2 mile walks, and tomorrow I graduate to nearly four miles a day. In addition, I have been doing one "altitude" hike per week, where the hike starts at over 7,000 ft. in altitude. In two weeks, I have hiked/walked about 40 miles.

I have also cut back on sodas. I was consuming anywhere from 44 to 64 ounces of sugared sodas in the morning, with another 2-3 12 ounce cans at night. That's somewhere in the range of 1500-1800 calories a day - in sodas. The popping of the seal on an ice cold Coke is like a siren song. Nevertheless, I'm now down to one a day. I've added salads to my diet. I'm doing more to take better care of myself. And I'm feeling better, stronger, and I'm losing weight. My weight right now hasn't been this low in at least 15 years.

But there's a long way to go. And today was the first day I started walking and started feeling less motivated. That's a dangerous place to be. It's like hitting a wall that's been palced to keep me from getting to my goal. Today, I got around the wall, but it didn't feel good.

But recognizing it means it can be surpassed. Knowing that the wall is there means I can go around, over, under, through the wall. It is the next challenge and the part of the journey that currently is tougher than any steep climb or set of switchbacks on the trail. And this time, they won't be picking up the cones behind me.

A New Goal

About a week ago, I spent a week camping, taking a mini-sabbatical from the world at large. Sort of. No Internet, no phone service - but text messages still got there. Go figure. In any case, I spent the time hiking, shooting some great landscapes, and thinking.

Many of those thoughts will be reflected in blog posts on my various blogs. But one particular experience has caused me to initiate some changes.

I had taken a morning hike, about 1.1 miles each way, and about 550 ft. in elevation change. And I was gassed. I hated that feeling. I thought I should be in better shape.

I hiked back to my campsite and drove up to Whitney Portal, the trailhead area for Mt. Whitney (highest peak in the lower 48 states). I had a snack and checked things out, watching some people head up the trail, others coming down.

I saw an older couple start out on the trail and thought to myself "Yeah, right". And then I suddenly realized how hypocritical that was. I had completely bonked on a smaller hike that morning, and yet I thought it was ok to judge how an older couple would do. I hemmed and hawed, then grabbed my pack and about 3 liters of water, and started up the trail.

I decided I would go as far as Lone Pine Lake, a 2.8 mile, roughly 1,600 ft. climb. It felt good to stretch my legs a bit, and for the first 3/4 mile or so, it was fine. Then I really started climbing. Really.

I started really sucking wind, With about 25-30% less oxygen at that altitude (over 9,000 ft.), it was a challenge. after a while, I had to start breaking the hike down - to the next rock, the next tree, the next switchback. And then I looked up about 4 switchbacks and saw the older couple. Now, it was a matter of pride.

I caught up to the couple about 3/4 of the way up to the Lake, chatted for a minute or two, and headed out. We reached the destination, all three of us, about the same time.

I had a snack, took some shots, and started to head back down. Each step down was a little lighter, a little quicker. And when I got to the bottom, I clenched my fist in a silent triumph. 

I hadn't planned on making the hike. I just decided to go. And then I looked up at Mt. Whitney. Why not?

It was a watershed moment. It had been quite some time since I had pushed myself physically to find out what I could do. I could use lots of excuses if I wanted to, but what it really boiled down to is that I had not given myself the permission to do so, and had not carved out the time from my day to make it happen.

So I set my new goal - to summit Mt. Whitney in 2010. I have created a Facebook group for anyone interested, just click this link: Whitney2010.

I have started a regimen of daily walks tied to weekly hikes at altitude. We're fortunate here in Las Vegas that less than an hour away are a number of hiking trails that are at an altitude of 7,000 ft. or higher. I'm doing 2.5 mile walks each night (going to 3 miles soon) and today did the first altitude hike - an easy one at 7,500 ft., 1.3 miles with very little altitude change.

It also pushed me to start taking better care of myself. I somehow managed to get appointments to three different clinicians within a week - two on the same day. I've restarted controlling my blood sugar, have drastically reduced my sugared beverage consumption, and checking my blood sugar regularly. I figure if I'm going to hike to the top of a 14,000+ ft. peak, I'd better have my ducks in a row.

So that's the new project, the new goal. To climb a mountain. Why? To use a cliche - because it's there. And to prove I can. To challenge myself. And to be better because of it.

Fearful / Fearless

A few nights ago, I had the opportunity to talk to some old friends whom I hadn't talked to in over 20 years. Lately I've been able to connect with folks who knew me at a different time, in a different circumstance. Perhaps even a different person.

In our chat, one of my friends and I were catching up, and she asked if had been doing any theater lately. When we had last seen each other, I ate, slept and breathed theater. Performing, creating, working onstage and backstage. I told her it had been 15 years since the last time I performed, and that I had been dealing with an issue of confidence. She told me that she couldn't believe it. She remembered me as fearless.

She didn't know it when she said it, but that one statement hurt. She had no way of knowing. But it hurt because she was right. There was a time when I was fearless. There was a time when nothing was impossible, where there was no hurdle that couldn't be jumped, no problem that couldn't be solved. There was a time when I reveled in performance, in doing what others found terrifying. Now is not that time.

We had a nice conversation, and discussed getting a bunch of us together for a reunion. But as I hung up, I felt shaken up. I had felt the difference, but hadn't put it into words. And a voice from 30 years ago said it - I used to be fearless. Now, I am fearful.

I asked someone else who knew me back then, "Would you have described me as fearless?". The answer "Yes".

How did I get from fearless to fearful?

The answer is not a simple one. Part of it was a conscious decision. To become "responsible", to put someone else's needs and desires ahead of my own. Part was unconscious, born out of years of taking care of someone who did not have the tools to take care of themselves, of being so vigilant of their condition that my own was a distant second. But none of this should have made me fearful, should it?

Some of it was the pain of losing. The pain of losing my first love. Of losing my second. The pain of losing a home, and a dream. And yet, those still did not steal it from me.

No, the most impactful thing was a phrase uttered by someone who was angry and was trying to hurt me. That one phrase shattered the confidence that I had, bringing my confidence to a low I had never before experienced.

What all the other things, the other experiences could not do, that one angry utterance accomplished. How did that one phrase, that one "blurt" cause such a shift? Because it came from someone that mattered.

I have run a triathlon. I have re-created orchestrations for musicals from scratch. I have lived on a boat. I have edited a magazine, spoken in front of a stadium full of people, been interviewed as an industry expert on MSNBC, local tv and radio. And now, I have trouble simply singing in front of my girlfriend.

I used to look at any challenge life presented and thought "So what?" and found a way around/over/through the obstacle. I built a solution if one wasn't there. Now, it's easier to think of why it can't be done. Now, it is easier to be fearful.

When I got off the phone the other night, I was truly shaken. And Melissa asked me why I was now fearful instead of fearless. And I couldn't answer why. Because there are truly many answers, but none of them good ones. Why do we allow the little things that people say destroy that which is strong in us? Why do their words carry such weight?

I suppose the first step is to decide that they won't affect us any longer. Easier said than done, I fear. When you're fearless, not achieving your goal the first try is ok - you know you'll get there. When you have allowed the fear to creep in, it's diametrically opposite - you can't see how you can possibly get there.

So what do I do?

My first step is to start trying to think what I would do if I was fearless.

And one thing I hope will help is reconnecting with those old friends who knew me in my fearless days. Perhaps their memories of me, their collective energy can re-spark that powerful guy that I once was - with perhaps a bit more wisdom of life to guide him.

Mollie - the new addition

Mollie
Originally uploaded by lsoderman

Finally got Mollie to sit still for a picture!

Mollie has this uncanny knack of being able to tell when her picture is about to be taken. As soon as you get her in focus, she gets up and moves. Somehow, she managed to stay put this time. I think she was really pooped and wasn't going to get up for anything.

She's a sweet dog with very soft fur. She had all the fur cut back right after we got her, and it's starting to grow in. She has a very light tan fur undercoat, but the longer hairs are black and gray, so she's starting to darken up.

She's been doing very well at home, but had a bit of trouble back at Melissa's folks house with their dogs, which got Mollie uninvited for future visits. We'll see how THAT goes.

Goodbye is the saddest word

I'm new at these post, so bear with me. Leo is the one who has a gift for writing. He has always 'bugged' me to write on here, but I just never felt I could put into words what I'm thinking. I still don't think I can, but I figured I'd give it a shot.

Leo wrote a post on the 6th talking about Maggie and how saying good-bye is never easy. Last night, we had to say our final good-bye to Maggie. No matter how much we plan things out, God always has the final word. I had hoped to let Maggie be put to sleep at the house, surrounded by family. She had been going to the vets every week for the past 6-10 months. I just wanted the final time to be in a calming environment when she drew her last breath on Friday morning. But, God had other plans.

Maggie had deteriorated quickly over the past 3 days. By Wednesday morning, she was no longer able to stand on her own. I know she was frustrated because she was independent....like me. She wanted to do it on her own. I took her out to go potty, but she couldn't go. On Thursday morning I woke to find that she had soiled her bed. I know how humiliated and frustrated she must have been, as she had tried to move off her bed. I cleaned her up and gave her lots of kisses. For the rest of the day she would have potty accidents, and each time I would clean her up and give her lots of kisses. She never once cried out in pain, but rather in frustration because she was alert and knew that she wasn't able to do what she needed to do.

As night came, I had a few people over to the house...Paul, her 'poppy' for many years, "Auntie" Amy who lived with us for a while and gave her a lot of TLC, and Lynne...Maggie's guardian angel, who came over each day at noon to give her medicine. After everyone left, my parents, Leo, Oliver & Sippi (the other dogs), and I....carrying Maggie, went to sit on the porch. We talked and laughed about her past antics. We were happy, even though we knew what was to come the next morning....but God had other plans.

As we were sitting there, Maggie started twitching like she does when she's in a deep sleep. However, this escalated into something like never before. She started seizing....hard and violent. I just held and comforted her. By the time it was done, she was spent. With her tongue hanging out and my urine soaked pants, I knew it was time for that final good-bye. I called Dr. Chinn and made arrangements to meet at the vet office. I went to change my pants while my mom sat with Maggie on the ottoman. When I came out Maggie started howling in a way that I can't describe. It was one of pain, frustration, and fear all rolled into one.

We loaded up the Hummer, with Leo driving, my parents in the car, and Maggie and me in the very back. That 15 minute drive was the longest, most heart wrenching drive of my life. Her howling echoing throughout the car, breaking my heart a little more each time. Feeling guilty because I wanted to wait until Friday and now here she was in pain and terrified of what she was feeling...or not feeling. As we arrived at the vets, we had to wait a few minutes for the doctor to arrive. Seeing Maggie laying on her side, no control of her bowels, and the tip of her tongue dried because she hadn't been able to put it back into her mouth was...can't think of a word, but I kept telling her it would be over shortly and she would be free of pain.

Once the doctor arrived, I carried her back to the place she hated to visit...the prep room. As the doctor prepared the sedation medicine and euthanasia medicine, we comforted her, telling her how loved she was. She had a hard time seeing, but her sense of smell was still powerful. When I moved away to sign the final papers, she began howling again. I put my hand over her snout and that immediately calmed her. I didn't move that hand until the very end. I had always told her I would be the last face she ever saw, and I kept that promise. At 10:10, she was gone. She was in a better place, free of pain, and able to play like she used to. We stayed with her while Dr. Chinn prepared the rest of the paperwork, and when it came time to put her in the bag, I was there to help. She will be cremated and her ashes will be kept with me, spreading some in Wyoming on the land she loved to run, chasing rabbits and getting sprayed by skunks.

Good-bye Magnolia, Pooh Bear, Pookie Bear, Maggie May...the list is long. She touched so many lives and I can say with certainty, she put a smile on everyone's face. She is something special and who ever she is with now, is so lucky to have her by their side! Thank you for being a part of my life and I love you SO much!

Saying Goodbye

I've always wanted a dog. My mom didn't like them. My dad would tolerate them, but wasn't a huge fan. My ex-wife is afraid of them. So I haven't really had a dog of my own.

When I met Melissa and the pups, I finally was able to have dogs. Sort of. Let's face it, they're Melissa's pooches. I'm just getting to know them.

Maggie is the older of the two. Melissa found Maggie in a Mississippi truck stop, abandoned as a pup. Ever since, they have been companions. Maggie has been there for Melissa through tough times and good times, always a gentle, calm, loving friend.

I liked Maggie and Oliver as soon as I met them. Oliver's the younger, excitable pup who wants to play every time you walk in the door. Maggie, on the other hand, has a sweet, lovable demeanor, happy to just get a scratch or some attention, but who occasionally would join in Oliver's games, chasing him around the house until she was gassed.

But Maggie's an older pup, and her health has slowly been failing over the last 18 months. About this time last year, we took Maggie with us to California to visit the beach for the first time in her life. She has a great time romping around the sand. At that time, we didn't think she'd make it to the end of the year.

She surprised us, and for a while, she seemed to be getting better. But in the last few months, her health has taken a turn for the worse. Maggie's health has been progressively deteriorating, with her liver and kidneys starting to fail and arthritis making her hips weak and making it hard for her to manage the stairs in the house.

Melissa has done everything she can, from medications to acupuncture. We've even given given her fluids by way of a subcutaneous needle multiple times a week. I developed a knack for getting the needle in the right spot for a quick drip. And Maggie tolerated all of it. Yes, sometimes she would hide in the bedroom when it was time for the drip, or head downstairs when Melissa was ready to give Maggie her meds. But she never lost her sweet disposition, and she seemed to understand that it was all being done to take care of her.

In the end, it's not enough. Melissa had told the vet to let her know when it was time, when Maggie was in enough pain or discomfort that it would be wrong to keep going. Last week, Dr. Chin said "It's time." Melissa had to make the difficult decision to put Maggie down. On this coming Friday, Maggie's vet will come to the house to euthanize Maggie at home, in a place where she's comfortable, around family. Melissa's folks will be here to say goodbye. Over the past few days, Maggie has been going around to friends' houses to say goodbye. In a few more, the rest of us will say goodbye as well.

When I started this blog, I picked a name that I thought was fitting to our lives. With two pups, Carolyn and Melissa, the name was pretty simple. I don't think I'll change it. Even in the short time I've known her, Maggie has been an integral part of our lives as a family, and I think it would be appropriate to leave it as is.

I took the picture above this morning at the "Welcome to Las Vegas" sign. As usual, she put up with us posing her, getting her in the right position for the shot, still as sweet as ever.

I always wanted a dog. I'm glad I got to know Maggie.