When I first started this writing space and was trying on different names for what ultimately became Midlife Run, I struggled. Solidly in my forties, the idea of attaching the word “midlife” to anything seemed like an unwelcome, uncomfortable stretch reserved for the after-fifty set. But I settled into the name, comforted by the knowledge that I was on the “early side” of midlife. Not so any more. Last month we dropped our youngest at college thus marking the beginning of the “empty nester years” and today, as I start to write this, I turn fifty. I am solidly, undeniably, in midlife.

When was the last time you asked yourself what you need? Not what’s for dinner or what emails have to be answered for work or what you need to do to make sure that everyone else around you is well tended and taken care of. This question is simply about you. If the rest of the world and responsibilities fell away just for a minute - or an hour - where would your spirit pull you? What, would it feel like to do exactly whatever it is that tugs at your heart in that moment. What is that? Is it a moment alone to sit in stillness? Is it a guilt-free run on a trail? Is it reading (or writing) a book? Tending your garden? Dinner out with friends or family? A nap?

When my daughter was a toddler and we were zipping around town running errands, I had a habit of listening to a talk radio show host whose platform centered on giving advice about marriage, parenting, and general adulting. She was conservative but she sounded authoritative and was entertaining, and as a 20-something year old first time mom trying to adjust and seeking to be the-very-best-I-could-be, I listened to her religiously. Then one day, she came out with this little gem: Your house always should be “company ready”. Two working parents, a small house, and a toddler with enough toys to open a pre-school, sure, that was going to happen.

If you call a law firm, generally you will receive one of two greetings – either a generic “Law Offices” or the rattling off of two to six last names of partners in the firm. It is very business like. Always. Well, maybe not always. Several years ago as a young attorney I was asked to reach out to a lawyer with a solo practice in a small town in the Rocky Mountains. Instead of the expected generic greeting, he answered my call with a loud and enthusiastic: “It’s a great day to be alive!”

As a surprise for my 40th birthday, my husband whisked me away to Vancouver Island to an idyllic resort overlooking Brentwood Bay, sans children. It was beautiful, perfect, more than I could have imagined. Which, on reflection, makes my meltdown on the actual Big Day seem even more pathetic.