You Should Totally Write a Blog About That…

In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Take It From Me.”  What’s the best piece of advice you’ve given someone that you failed to take yourself? This one is so simple. “You just start a blog and write about….” I find myself saying that to so many people in my life.

Yet, It has been weeks, if not months, where I have gotten back on track with my own blog.  I keep giving myself an out with a cornucopia of vacuous excuses. I have the time NOW to do it and I haven’t.

Which leads me to the second bit of advice I give to everyone and abuse it chronically.  “Do not squander time….”   

Instead of directing someone to write about the topics on my mind, it’s time to step it up and get it done myself.

2109 Steps Up the Willis Tower

And that’s taking the stairs, not the elevator!

Getting back into the stair climb state of mind

Last year I climbed 2,109 stairs/103 flights to the skydeck of the Willis Tower in Chicago. I had five weeks to train and I made it up all of the steps with a collection of fabulous firemen waiting to be in photos with me. Could be worse!  Exhilarating! Exhausting! Here’s a flashback to last year’s climb.

Revving the engine to get to the top

It’s hard to believe that it’s time for me to start thinking about this climb again. Especially since I feel like I JUST caught my breath.  This year, I have a little less than three months to train.  Not quite as much pressure but I obviously want to beat last year’s time and raise more money for Rehabilitation Institute of Chicago.

This climb’s going into overdrive!

Prove Those Naysayers Wrong!

Subliminal advertising: I am now on Twitter!  Follow me, you’ll feel better. The blog needs love. We all do!  @reinrantnrave.  That’s easy to remember.

I don’t have many cousins, so the ones I have are on cloud nine with the creative attempts I make to ensure that we stay in touch. 

My maternal side of the family has three cousins and we always had a lot of fun together during our winter and summer visits, despite their living on the Canadian border and I in the northern suburbs of Chicago.

One summer, my grandpa had dropped off our cousins at their other grandparents house.   Alas, the end of our visit would inevitably occur.  Grandpa would always take us to Hamburger Hollow on the way back and buy us an ice cream cone.  After one visit, my brother and I were so sad about losing our playmates, that we turned the ice cream down.  Grandpa was dazed.