What My Body is For

What does being a competitive person who doesn’t compete look like? 

That’s a question that rattled around in my head for years after having my first kid when I quietly bowed out of competitive events, took a break from coaching, and completely rebuilt both my life and my body.

I let go of the idea of “bouncing back” and contemplated what health and fitness should look like moving forward, trying hard not to measure it against what I used to be or do.. I lived in sort of a “fitness purgatory” for a while, unable to let go of the past and not fully committed to becoming something else entirely. Too scary.

It happened slowly, not without frustration, and continues to be a work in progress. But lately, instead of looking for proof that I’m at the top of my athletic game, I’ve been looking for proof that my relationship with fitness and with my body has evolved. 

So what’s my body for? It used to begin and end at the gym, or on a stopwatch, or a podium. That’s how I measured myself. But those days are long gone.

As a person who still has a deep love for training, but who’s no longer keeping score… what am I really after?

Early this month I waded into the chilly waters of Lake Michigan with my sister, nephew, and husband, our sights set on the Ludington Lighthouse - an icon of our childhood summers, a spec in the distance, a shared challenge. With only our immediate family there to witness (and save us if we needed saving), we slipped through the surface and went quietly on our way. 

My breathing settled into a steady rhythm, my hands sliced through the crystal clear water, and my eyes followed the lines in the sand beneath me. The water silenced everything in a way that made me feel completely still, despite the effort it required to push against it and stay in motion.

Would it be melodramatic to call this a spiritual experience? Sure. But in that moment, I realized that this is what my body is actually for. Not just to achieve the goal, but to carry me into experiences worth having. With people I love. In places that matter. The version of me who seeks these moments is my favorite. She makes me feel warm and fuzzy and connected to something bigger than myself. 

I don’t actually want to change much about how I train or how I eat, but I’ve needed a new reason to give it purpose. 

More and more, I’m finding that reason in places like the lake, not for a finish line, but for the feeling. For the way it reminds me that my body is not just something I train, but something I get to live in.