“What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger” has been a motto of mine since I was in grade school. I’m not sure where I heard it first but boy did it come in handy when I was suicidal in fifth grade due to an emotionally abusive teacher, in high school when I was working my ass off and still getting bad grades and criticism because of my learning differences, when I was 17 and raped at a kibbutz in Israel by a friend and completely on my own to deal with it, and when I was suicidal again in my twenties, sure that I would never escape the crushing loneliness I felt. That motto has kept me going and kept me alive through some really terrible shit. I am so grateful for it. I am so, so grateful for it.
And now it is time to let it to go.
A couple months ago I set the goal of competing in another triathlon. I’ve done one before, a year after my first child was born and it was amazing. Josie was born with a cleft pallete and had a lot of special needs. That first year was one of the hardest in my life, we were lucky to get three hours of sleep at night and I was pumping around the clock since she couldn't breastfeed. To take on triathlon training during all that probably sounds crazy, but it was something for me, me only, and guaranteed I would have a handful of hours to myself every week. It was incredibly difficult to wake up at 5am after sleepless nights and jump into an ice cold pool but I loved learning about how to exercise for stamina, I loved conquering the thousands of fears that popped up along the way, I loved having the determination and drive that came with that goal. The feeling of empowerment I got from completing that tri was tremendous! It felt so freakin good! I had done it! Bucket list item COMPLETE. Totally worth pushing myself so hard.
As I’ve been a bit depressed recently and unmotivated when it comes to movement and exercise, I thought, ‘hey, maybe I should do another triathlon. I am about to turn 40, I want to be Fit at Forty! I need a challenging goal. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right? I need to do something hard to get that infusion of empowerment in my life.’ So I found a race, set my goal, and started training.
My elbow had started hurting before I even started training--I think due to a lot of spring weeding in the garden-- but as with most physical issues, I chose to ignore it and hope it would go away. It didn’t. Fast forward a month into training and the painful twinge in my elbow was now significant pain radiating all the way down my forearm, resulting in weakness and numbness. Not good. It hurts all the time, even when it isn’t working. The only blessing about it being so bad is that it made it clear, without a question, that I cannot do the triathlon I had intended to. Or rather… there shouldn’t be a question.
Cue old wounds and damage...
As a kid who had a learning difference but was clearly smart, I was told over and over again that I didn’t try hard enough, that I was a quitter, and that I always made excuses (parents, don’t say this shit to your kids! Something else is going on!). It was one of the most consistent messages I got from the adults in my life. I got this message at the same time as I was staying up until 1 am doing homework every night and trying my absolute hardest. It was crazy-making, and it left a mark on how I view myself.
Then there's the story that growth and basically anything of value comes through struggle; what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. I don't know if this is a North American thing in general (it seems like a founding principle of capitalism and 'boot strap' thinking) or where I got it from, but it is deeply entrenched in my worldview. Good people become great by overcoming struggle. The phoenix is born from the ashes. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger…
So am I just being a wimp and making excuses with this elbow thing? I don't want to be a quitter. Maybe my arm doesn’t hurt that bad...
Those stories are so deeply rooted in my psyche and so powerful that they lead me to disbelieve my current reality! UGH.
Then there’s the issue of integrity. When I was suicidal I was extremely fortunate enough to have the resources to go to a 6 month program at a ranch for young adults who were struggling with mental health issues. My healing there relied heavily upon a devotion to Integrity. If you’ve ever read any self-help book you have probably read about how important it is to stay in integrity. That’s the seed from which your self-worth grows. It is virtually impossible to feel good about yourself if you keep breaking your word and aren’t living in alignment with your values, if you aren't living in integrity. I live with depression lurking over my shoulder, waiting for an opportunity to pounce, so I take integrity extremely seriously. I start slipping with that and I can suddenly find myself falling a loooong ways down. Breaking agreements and goals is not something I do, I can’t afford to.
So here I am, with a busted arm, breaking my goal of doing a triathlon this September, and it is incredibly challenging for me. My inner critic is almost constantly yelling in my ear. But there is another smaller voice I can hear too. This quiet voice is saying:
Maybe you don’t need to struggle to grow.
Maybe you can gain empowerment through something pleasurable.
Maybe doing less is doing more.
Maybe being in integrity means listening to your body and having the flexibility to change course when necessary.
Maybe you can remain a phoenix without being burned to the ground again and again. You've risen enough, you've proven you can, so maybe it's your time to simply enjoy flying.
I know this smaller voice is my inner teacher, I know I need to pass her the mic. It’s my work right now to give my attention to her and say to the rest, “thank you, you have served me well but now I am ready for something different.”
I’m not going to end this piece as if I’ve got it figured out because I don’t. I am struggling through this. I have spent most of my life choosing the path that takes me up the mountain, forcing myself to take step after step of a grueling climb, appreciating the incredible views at the top but beating up my body and leaving me exhausted in the process. I am starting to see there is another path; this one twists and turns and changes course, it's the opposite of rigid; it may not have that same mountaintop view, but it has its own peaceful beauty. I am more and more determined to get my body and mind walking on that path.
