Hey friend.
Welcome back to Running to Myself. I’m your host, Trisha Stanton.
Today, I just want to tell you a story. Actually, a few little stories that have something in common.
They’re all about rhythm.
And how one quiet little habit—choosing a word for the year—has slowly, over time, become something that anchors me.
A Theme That Found Me
Every December, like clockwork, I start feeling a tug, the nudge to name the year that’s coming. Not with a resolution or a long list of goals, but just… one word or phrase.
I’ll be honest. I didn’t come up with this practice on my own. I saw other people doing it for a while before I even considered it for myself. And at first, I thought it was a little cheesy. Or maybe just something people with more time or less going on would stick with. People who were a little more woo woo than me. I tend to be pretty practical.
But then, years ago, I was in a season where I just needed something.
Something small. Something I could really hold on to.
And the word that rose up for me—almost out of nowhere—was Healthy.
At the time, I thought it meant I was going to get really serious about food and fitness, optimizing everything. But that’s not what it became.
That word, Healthy, ended up guiding me in a very different direction.
It pushed me toward emotional health.
Toward boundaries I’d never set.
Toward letting go of stories I’d carried for far too long.
Looking back now, it was like that word had a life of its own.
And ever since, I’ve chosen a word every single year.
Over the Top
This year’s word has been… something else. Not just a word, but a phrase this time.
Over the Top.
When it first came to me, it felt kind of exciting.
Big. Playful. Full of possibility. And also, terrifying. I’m not, by nature over the top-at all. So I embraced it.
I imagined living boldly—saying yes to things I normally might shy away from. I saw myself pouring out effort and energy with passion, going all-in with the people I love, stretching further in my work. I imagined laughter, adventure, a little sparkle, a little drama.
And, I have been intentional in trying to live that out.
Over the top effort.
Over the top attention.
Over the top connection.
I have given more, showed up more, leaned in harder.
But what I didn’t see coming was how life would rise up to match the word.
And not always in the way I hoped.
Because Over the Top hasn’t just been about how I’m showing up—
it’s also been about what life has been handing me.
And this year?
Life has been a little bit… over the top.
In ways that have taken my breath away.
In ways that have knocked the wind right out of me.
There have been moments of over the top good—
deep connection, unexpected beauty, memories I will hold close for a long, long time.
And there have also been seasons that have felt over the top hard.
Big grief. Big uncertainty. Big questions I don’t know how to answer.
Stretching, not in a motivational-poster kind of way, but in a way that has worn me out.
Along the way, that bold and playful phrase—Over the Top—
Has also felt heavier and harder than I expected.
Often, Not fun, not lighthearted, not even motivational.
Just… heavy.
There were days it felt like I was being dared to live up to something I didn’t have the capacity for.
And other days where I wondered if the word had flipped itself on me—become more of a mirror than a guide.
But in the still moments—in the places where I could quiet all the noise—I started to see it differently.
Maybe it wasn’t that the word was too much.
Maybe it was just showing me all of me.
All the ways I try.
All the ways I resist.
All the ways I rise, and fall, and rise again.
That's the thing about these words.
They aren’t just themes.
They aren’t just clever mottos or tools for motivation.
They’re companions.
They walk with us through the year.
Sometimes quietly, sometimes loudly.
Sometimes giving us direction, and sometimes just holding up a mirror.
They don’t always bring ease.
But they almost always bring awareness.
And that… that is worth something.
Squirrels and Associations
Can I tell you something a little ridiculous?
There are squirrels in our neighborhood who seem like they have a personal vendetta against my dog.
Every time we walk through the park, one of them scurries down a tree just enough to catch his attention, then perches there—taunting, chattering, flicking its tail like it knows exactly what it’s doing.
And my dog… bless him… he loses his mind. Every single time.
One day, I gave him a little more leash and let him run toward the tree. The squirrel, of course, darted away. But then my dog started racing toward the next tree. And the next.
There weren’t any squirrels. But he had made the connection:
Trees mean excitement. Trees are the goal.
And I know it’s silly, but it made me think about how powerful our associations are.
Because we do the same thing.
We build meaning, often without realizing it.
We associate smells, sounds, places, even people with memories or emotions.
We create links—sometimes helpful, sometimes painful.
But always powerful.
Meaning That Carries Us
That’s what my word of the year has become: an association.
A tether.
It shows up in unexpected places—on a walk, in a conversation, in a choice I don’t want to make.
And suddenly, there it is again… whispering to me.
Sometimes gently.
Sometimes sharply.
But always offering me a way back to myself.
That’s what rhythm does.
It gives us a sense of return. A pattern to lean into.
A thread of meaning that carries us forward, even when we don’t know exactly where we’re going.
The First Word
I think back to that first word—Healthy—and how it met me right where I was.
I didn’t know then that it would become a yearly practice.
I didn’t know it would change how I mark time.
Or how I pay attention to my life.
But it did.
That word opened something in me.
And every word since then has kept it open.
Not every year has been clear or tidy.
Sometimes the word gets lost in the shuffle for a little while.
But it always returns.
It always finds me again when I need it.
Before I Go
I don’t know if you’ve ever chosen a word for your year.
Maybe you have. Maybe you haven’t.
Maybe you’re like I was—watching other people do it and thinking, That’s not for me.
And that’s okay.
This isn’t about starting a new thing or doing what everyone else is doing.
It’s about noticing the rhythms that already exist in your life.
The ones that ground you.
The ones that bring you home to yourself.
The ones that hold quiet meaning, even when no one else sees it.
For me, this practice has become a special kind of rhythm.
A way to direct my walk through the year.
A way to see my own heart a little more clearly.
A way to name the season I’m in—whether I feel ready for it or not.
So if you have a word this year, I wonder what it’s teaching you.
And if you don’t, I wonder if you are noticing what themes are showing up anyway.
Whether we name them or not, the stories of our lives are always unfolding.
Sometimes, one word can hold more meaning than we ever imagined.
Thanks for being here with me today.
Whether you’re deep into your own rhythms or just starting to notice them…
whether this year has been over the top, underwhelming, or somewhere in between—
I hope you give yourself the gift of attention.
Because how we pay attention shapes how we experience our lives.
Until next time,
Take a deep breath.
Keep showing up.
And keep running home to yourself.
Running to Myself is written and hosted by me, Trisha Stanton.
If you'd like help building the mindset tools to stay grounded and resilient — even when things aren’t going as planned — I’d love to talk.
You can book a free consultation with me at trishastanton.com.
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Thanks again for being here.
I’ll see you next time.
