Day 80: Gift

This has been a back-to-normal exercise week. I've run twice, and been to two yoga classes: I've set that amount of exercise as my new hoped-for plan. It feels both do-able and necessary.

Yesterday's yoga class was so good for my soul. I had a long day that included a dentist appointment, seeing the chiro for this shoulder injury, and cooking and caring for kids ... by 4 o'clock when my husband came home early to set me free, I probably would have chewed someone's head off if I couldn't have grabbed my yoga gear and run out the door. Class itself was led by one of my favourite teachers. He encourages a very inward-seeking class, and actively discourages everyone from being competitive or judgemental (with/of ourselves, I mean). By class's end, I realized that I am still very fit, that that week and a half of ill health did not set me back, as far as I can tell, and that, more importantly, I was lying in shavasana is an utterly relaxed and content state of mind and body.

Down in the shower, the thought came to me: somehow, within the triathlon project, I've lost track of the real reason that I continue to exercise. If general fitness is the goal, I'm already there. I was there before the project began. If looking good is the goal, I'm also very happy with how I look, and already was. And if the goal is mental fitness, something hasn't been clicking. Because if the goal is to complete something no matter what, I'm lost from the start. In fact, I spent some of the triathlon project feeling less fit than before, less healthy, less mentally content with myself and my accomplishments.  Less spiritually aware. Less connected to the divine.

The project is not, therefore, dead. The project needs to take a keen look at itself, and reassess. I go to yoga class not to make myself more fit, or to get a step closer to completing a triathlon; I go because it feeds me during and after. Same for running.

Should I harbour no goals? No. That's not what I'm getting at. I just need to know at my core that the goal is a tiny piece of a much larger, richer, deeper, more interesting story. If I get there, good. If not, good. Just being able to move my body, to breathe, and to try is a gift.