Bucket List

A bucket list can look like a collection of clichés: write a book, run a marathon, dance in the rain, fall in love, start a business, watch the sun rise over the ocean. I don't think the idea is silly. Most of us carry some version of it around without writing it down. A written list turns vague wishes into the start of a plan. A dream can drift away. A plan can fail, but it can also be carried out. Writing the list is a first step.

I once tried making my own list of a hundred things. The first entries came easily. Around number thirty I realized I didn't want a shopping list or a travel catalog. Coming up with a hundred things you actually care about takes thought. Do I actually want this? Does it matter to me?

A few years earlier, I'd finished a list and started working through it. I had already run a marathon, started a business, started a family, had children, and written books, so some of the usual big ones were already checked off. Others took more thought. The list finally brought a dog into my life, after years of postponing it. It took me up Kilimanjaro, eight years after I first meant to go, and then to Zanzibar, ordering beer in Swahili. During my running year, it took me to Mounttown, where I ran in the hills to prepare for the climbs in an upcoming marathon. It even got me making potato pancakes from scratch. Later than planned, perhaps. But I did it. I really did.

You don't need a list for your whole life. Start with a running bucket list: a few ambitions, a few adventures, things that make you want to lace up.

A few possibilities: