Last week I was in the pool at the YMCA swimming laps. I do the same workout every Tuesday and Thursday. I get in, swim 8 lengths of freestyle and two of breast stroke. Then, repeat. The goal is to not stop. The next goal is to hit 45 minutes. The final goal is to push it and get more laps in the same amount of time, but honestly, that is the least of the goals.
Last Thursday I managed to squeeze in one more set in the same amount of time that I swam the previous workout. 2,000 yards versus 1,800, in 45 minutes. I was pretty stoked.
However, during my workout, a woman got into the pool and started in on some laps and I was floored at how powerful and fast she was. As she lapped me more than once in the next lane over, I remembered a familiar feeling from my years in youth sports, both in swimming and later, in figure skating. "I'm never going to be that fast." [cue heavy nostalgic sigh of teen sports angst here]
Of course, as an adult, my goals in fitness have changed, but that old familiar feeling of someone's always going to be better washed over me.
That's when it hit me like a big old duh, winning: Someone will always be faster.
Someone will always be faster, stronger, thinner, prettier, smarter, more evolved, better dressed, less grey, and less nuerotic.
Big flippin' deal.
Take it or leave it, there's only one of me.
I'll take it.
Here's to working with what you have every day.