I cannot get rid of clutter fast enough these days. I’m so desperate to clear space that I’ve taken to living vicariously through other people’s decluttering (anyone who has ever watched Hoarders knows exactly what I’m talking about. To everyone who has been blogging about cleaning their closets, I thank you).

I’ve been hunting for quick fixes for my current obsession, and getting rid of old running shoes sure hit the spot. I had a pair lazing around under my desk at work that I had reserved for wet, muddy recesses with my coworkers. But after the intense ankle pain I got the last time I wore them, it was time to let them go.

What to do with old running shoes:

1. Reuse them! Hello new gardening, painting, really-messy-activity shoe.

2. If you didn’t wear your shoes for too many miles (every runner has a shoe or two they just didn’t mesh with), donate them to a local charity or drop them off at a MORE Foundation pick-up location. Runner’s World also has a great list of other organizations that match your shoes with a new home.

3. Recycle your beat up kicks into something new. You can drop off your pair (or that random shoe you can’t find the mate for) to a local Nike store where the soles will be shredded and turned into a new track or field.

PS. Don’t forget these tips to make your next pair last longer.

I have taken to asking myself “does this add value to my life?” over and over again during the day. It’s been a powerful tool for me to refocus, stop procrastinating, and make decisions.

Throughout the day I find myself with an absurd amount of tabs open all calling for my attention. Most of them are work related, but the ones that aren’t call louder than the others. I find myself opening news stories that sound interesting, diving deeper into obscure blogs, and clicking on every link in newsletters (I’m looking at you Ann Friedman). Before I give one of these things my undivided attention (and ultimately ignore everything else), I ask if reading this page will add value to my life or just take up minutes I could spend elsewhere. More often then not I close the tab and move on.

But this constant questioning goes further. It’s becoming an important part of how I decide if I will do just about anything. There are some things that seem so wonderful and attractive (like watching the Jimmy Fallon, Will Farrell, and Kevin Hart lip sync battle over and over again) that I immediately deem them worthy of my time. But when I really look at it, they don’t add value and aren’t helping me get where I want to be. They aren’t improving my life or providing anything substantial.

Value is a weird thing to pin down. What’s important to me one day seems useless the next. It’s different for everyone. Some things add value by inspiring me. Others are very strategic (like buying a new notebook for work or taking a class). Which isn’t to say that I don’t see value in relaxation, fun, or pure entertainment. Those definitely factor in heavily for me.

I was originally exposed to the idea when reading Everything That Remains (you can read more about The Minimalists’ take on value of objects, work and personal impact, and even relationships), but it took me a few months to really integrate it into my life and see the power in the exercise. Questioning my actions, decisions, and purchases has gone a long way to help me simplify my life, feel more in control of my time, and find direction.

The past 14 months have been full of personal records and setbacks. Injuries have knocked me down more than I would like to count. I spent months not able to do the things I love to the fullest. I had to sit on the sidelines and watch as my friends, family, and coworkers chased after amazing goals.

I’m tried of watching everyone else do the things I want to be doing. I can’t change the fact that I got tendonitis almost a year ago. I can’t rewind the past 14 months and miraculously heal my ankles forever.

But I can let it all go.

I can smile when someone else does something amazing and revel in it with them. I can appreciate how much hard work it took and how amazing the accomplishment is.

It’s painful to accept that it’s not your time. It’s not my time to be running 20 miles a week or repping out double unders like nobody’s business. It’s not my time to train for a new distance or get faster than ever. It’s not my time to do a lot of things, and I need to let them all go.

My recent smack to the head has shown me just how important it is to listen to my body and take everything it gives me with gratitude. Yes, there are so many things that I want to be doing that I just can’t. But there are also so many things that I can do that I am incredibly thankful for.

Instead of thinking about the months I couldn’t run, the nagging pain in my ankles, and what often feels like a lack of progress, when I really look back on 2014, it was a damn good year.

I PRed my half marathon time… twice.

I improved my olympic lifts and hit massive weight goals.

I did things that I thought were impossible (hello bar muscle-ups).

I explored past loves.

I started a new job and made new friends.

I made big life changes and took on challenges in stride.

2014 is over. I’m letting go of the past year of hurt, of disappointment, of never being satisfied. This year I’m focusing on all of the amazing things I am going to do (and have done).

Do you ever wake up completely full, where you couldn’t possibly fit one more positive thing your life? There are some mornings where I find myself sipping tea, gazing out the window (or at the weird spot on the wall that for some reason is really attractive) thinking about all of the amazing things that are making me feel happy. fulfilled. full.

Life isn’t perfect. Of course there are things that I would change (no more headaches for a few days perhaps?), but none of those things matter in this moment. Right now, right here, I have everything I need.

I hate forced rest days. They drive me crazy. All I think about the entire time is the activity I had scheduled for the day and how great I would feel if I could just go along as planned.

But life doesn’t work that way.

Last week I got a mild concussion playing Ultimate Frisbee with my coworkers, and in the blink of an eye (or rather a painful smash of heads) I was sentenced to the couch for an unknown amount of time.

I was finally feeling like I was making progress. I was about to add in a third run into my week and my ankles were feeling pretty good. My PT was going well, and I had recovered from a PTT flair up within a few days (great news for someone who is struggling with fairly chronic tendonitis at this point). I was smashing PRs on my lifts and in general really enjoying my training.

While being forced to rest hasn’t made me the happiest of all people, it’s really the unknown that’s bothering me the most. Concussions are tricky to pin down and even harder to figure out when you are ready to come back. I was told to not exercise until the headaches are gone, and even then I can only move forward from brisk walking to something more fun if my head doesn’t protest. So far three days later and I haven’t made it past brisk walking.

My head looks fine. I feel energetic. And yet something small in my head is protesting rather loudly. For once I can’t just push through the discomfort and live my life the way I want. This time I have to actually listen. Take off the running shoes and put my feet up. I might just be here for a while.

Over the long weekend I turned off my phone and never looked back.

It wasn’t necessarily intentional. While driving down the coast I was tired of my phone constantly searching for a signal, so I turned it off. It remained off (except to very rarely check the time when I wasn’t near a clock) for the entire weekend.

I’ve known for a while I have some unhealthy habits with my phone. My alarm has barely finished making irritating noises at me in the morning when I’m already on my email. I frequently check my email one last time before bed, ensuring that I can toss and turn for awhile longer than necessary with thoughts of what I need to do the next day or what my boss meant by that last line. If I have a few extra minutes (or seconds) I’m suddenly on my phone without really thinking about it. When I get to the gym I scroll through Instagram while I foam roll.

I think my phone and I need some space.

For the next week (and hopefully longer) I have some new rules for my phone. No checking email before breakfast (ideally not before getting to work, but I always have this tiny hope that I will have an email telling me work is cancelled for the day, and I’m not ready to accept that it’s a delusion). No mindless scrolling through Instagram because I don’t want to be doing whatever I’m supposed to be doing. No more pulling out my phone the second I am left alone with time to spare.

On Monday night I turned my phone back on and proceeded to go through three days worth of my Instagram feed. We can’t win all the time. But for the most part I’ve been sticking to my rules and actually enjoying it.

This year I read an odd assortment of books. From autobiographies of people barely older than me to essays on minimalism, I expanded my typical reading list – and thoroughly enjoyed it. While I don’t believe in favorites (choosing a favorite book is an impossible task), here are 10 that stand out for me (not in any particular order).

1. Game of Thrones by George R.R. Martin: Despite their length, I devoured these books. I haven’t really read fantasy in many years, and these were a nice reminder of what I used to love in the genre. The TV show, however, I just couldn’t get in to it.
2. Everything That Remains by Joshua Fields Millburn: While I won’t be moving to a remote cabin anytime soon, I will be modeling my life after The Minimalists to some degree moving forward. Part inspiration, part personal story, these essays will open your eyes to a different way of life.
3. My Heart is an Idiot by Davy Rothbart: Judging from my list, it’s pretty clear I was on a mission to figure out how other people live their lives. Rothbart made me laugh while simultaneously feeling better about myself and jealous of what he has done with his life.
4. Tiny Beautiful Things by Cheryl Strayed: There are some books that come into your life when simply need them. I needed this book. You probably do too.
5. Marcelo in the Real World by Francisco X. Stork: Marcelo was a fantastic glimpse into a completely different perspective of the world.
6. #GIRLBOSS by Sophia Amoruso: I know, I know, everyone and their mom read it this year, but you can’t deny that it was worth our time.
7. A Long Way Down by Nick Hornby: I went on a bit of a Hornby binge this year, and this one definitely didn’t disappoint. It may have a bit of a dark beginning – the main characters meet on top of a building in London on New Year’s Eve where they are all planning to jump off – but it will make you laugh and cry.
8. The Realm of Possibility by David Levithan: This is poetry you will actually want to read. Each character tells their story in their own unique voice. My biggest disappointment was that it wasn’t longer.
9. Where’d You Go, Bernadette by Maria Semple: I know this one is so last year for a lot of people, but I got completely sucked in.
10. The Good Luck of Right Now by Matthew Quick: Everybody needs a little luck. Much like Silver Linings Playbook, Luck is a little odd, but worth a read.

To see all 41 books that I read this year, check out my GoodReads page.

It’s safe to say that 2014 didn’t go anything like I expected to. And I truly am thankful for that.

I spent three months seriously injured and another six months or so trying to hack my way through it. Tendonitis is a constant game of ‘can I, can’t I,’ and I like to think that every flare-up is just more information on what I should do differently in the future. Sometimes you just have to test your boundaries, right?

Being injured on and off for so long has been heart breaking and spirit crushing, but a lot of great things have come of it. I dug into my weaknesses, discovered what I need to change about the way I run and train, and ignited new passions. I never would have set aside so much time to explore olympic lifting or hit pie in the sky goals like a bar muscle up. I learned that even while injured my body is capable of amazing things – even if they aren’t the specific things I had imagined. On top of all of that I had two great races that I feel good about and had a blast running.

I didn’t get the 400 miles I had wanted, but I unintentionally came absurdly close. Once I got injured I stopped really paying attention to my total miles. It was too depressing to not see the numbers move at all for months at a time. I finished the year with 395.63, and I honestly don’t regret not tallying that sooner so I could squeeze in that last 4.37 miles (but if I do it today it still counts right?!?).

When I was staring down a new year at the end of last December, no part of me saw myself spending months injured or leaving the magazine industry. While I haven’t totally left (yet another thing I’m thankful for, freelancing), I work full time at a startup. My life is so different, but I know I’m where I’m supposed to be right now. I’m surrounded by amazing people who are passionate about what they do, and I’m seriously learning something new every day.

I’ve learned a lot about myself this year and challenged some of the things I used to think were inherently true, and I want to keep that going in 2015.

Instead of pledging a certain amount of miles or goal weights for my lifts (I would be lying if I didn’t have some figures in mind), I’m making this year about taking risks and following my gut. I’m going to seek out more adventures and still let myself get lost in a book for full weekends.

I’m starting 2015 with the mindset that I’m building a foundation for 2016. This is the year I slowly build my milage, attack my weaknesses, and prepare my body for whatever adventure I decided to embark on. It’s also the year I push my own boundaries outside of fitness and let myself just live.