When I was a kid I played tennis and soccer, and I loved both…and hated both. I never liked tennis lessons but I loved playing matches for fun. Soccer was similar, I loved playing in our Saturday games, but never liking the drills we did in practice. Then, when I got into cycling as a teenager the same pattern existed; I hated training, but loved racing!
People used to tell me “practice makes perfect”. And I believe that to some degree: if you want to improve you need to put in the effort and practice. But I have a problem with the word “perfect” because the idea of it makes me go a little nutty. I start to think that perfection exists, and I need to be perfect; and then when I’m not perfect that means I’m a failure (you see, a little nutty, right?). Maybe that’s why I always hated practice, because I thought I was a lost cause. There is no way I can’t be perfect so what’s the point?
Today, I’m training for a triathlon and I don’t hate it, and honestly I don’t know why. Maybe it’s because my goal is not to be perfect, my goal is only to finish the race. That kind of takes away the pressure of it all. I am no longer trying to become a superwoman that can accomplish the impossible. I am not trying to become something “better” than myself by morphing myself into someone I’m not. I’m just Carley. I am training to improve my endurance to help me accomplish my goal: finish the race. And maybe I will finish or maybe I won’t, but I have learned enough in my recovery to know that the result won’t define me. Whether I cross the finish line or not I’m still Carley.