The Triathlon
Photo by Benjamin Davies on Unsplash
As we made our way upriver, I felt myself going slower than I have in the past. Is the current stronger? Am I weaker? If I am weaker, do I care? After some thought I came to the conclusion that I did not care how fast I went, I just wanted to be able to do it.
The it I am referring to is something my husband Andrew and I had dubbed the triathlon. It begins with a 2 mile kayak up stream where we pull our kayaks off into the woods and proceed to a 3.5-mile hike. At the end of the hike is a little pub where leg #3 is fried food and beer. It is the triathlon, and it's silly, but it's also not easy and I love that I can do it - even if I do it a little slower this year than the last.
The older I get I’ve come to accept that I may not always be able to do the same things in the same way that I have in the past. Whether it’s the particular season I’m in or my body changing, it is a part of life. When this happens to us though, it’s very easy to let the comparison of what we can do today to what we used to be able to do weigh us down; we forget the gift of being able to do it at all.
A few weeks ago, I started running again for the first time in a long time. After finally getting a diagnosis for my Endometriosis, and having the surgery to remove it, I feel better than I have in years. I can run again, but not as fast as I used to. When I got home one day a few weeks ago I told Andrew that I was proud that I was able to run, but then I immediately discredited the win with, but I ran really slow. He stopped me and spoke something along the lines of you just ran 4 miles. Do you know how many people can’t do that? They can’t just get up and run. But you can. That’s amazing. It doesn’t matter how fast you’re going; you’re still doing it.
Most of the trouble with our self-esteem comes from comparing ourselves to what someone else can do, or what we used to be able to do, when really, we should just be proud we got out there at all. Because in the end, it’s not the speed, the distance, or the accolades that matter most—it’s the doing. The showing up. The choice to honor your body’s capabilities, even as they evolve. So if you’re paddling upstream at your own pace, if your miles are slower or fewer than they used to be, let them be enough. Let them be worthy. Because they are. And you are.
