Another tiny joy in life is awaiting packages in the mail. I will never forget choosing a sequined, silver bathing suit out of a catalog back in the mail-in ordering days. I was five. My mom submitted the order and I watched our front porch like a hawk until we received notice that the requested item was out of stock. My dream of dancing, swimming and sleeping in my flashy suit was shattered. That was my first shopping heartbreak. I still anticipate packages like I did my silver suit. And just like Christmas, the product can never measure up to the magic that comes with knowing it’s on its way. The last item I ordered were leggings from Fabletics. I signed up to get daily tracking updates. I was that pumped about tall, vibrant spandex pants. I’ve already written a rave review of Fabletics, so I shall spare you another endorsement (but really, they’re stellar). The fancy pants came yesterday and I reverted back to my 5-year-old self. The pants were out of the mailbox and onto my legs in less than 60 seconds. Below are my long-awaited (like 6 days) leggings. Nala thinks they’re comfy too.
Moral of the story is not: rely on perfect breakfast routines and snail mail in order to find joy in life. Those are just two minute things which happen to bring me pleasure. The lesson is yet another revelation brought about during my years in the aqua sphere. Small victories make all the difference. Swimming can make you miserable if you set a towering goal, and you are enraged every time you do not clench it. Stepping stones are necessary in order to reach those determined goal. “Success is a journey, not a destination,” as every coach and Pinterest inspiration board says. The climb toward your perfect goal needs to be full of savored, celebrated moments. I had pathetic responses to perfectly good races in my career. I could have had so much more fun with the sport had I discovered the power of treasuring little victories earlier on. As a senior at Arizona I raced a speedy, driven freshman named Ellyn Baumgardner routinely. If I lost to her in practice, I was grouchy. I lost often. My mental process was upside down. I should have thought: She got better and I got better today. Now that I’m a wise old sage, I should write Ellyn, Sara and Chelsey (my training group, Team Rody) thank you cards for pushing me to have the fairytale senior season I had. If I could rewind to high school swimming, I would have given all best times a bit more hoopla. Every hundredth of a second is progress and should always garner mental-kudos.
Swimming is just a microcosm of the big ol’ world in which we live. It’s mental. You can climb out of the despairing self pity and look beyond the present troubles or you can wallow, as I so often have done. However, life does present tragic moments that deserve to be mourned. Bad things, really terrible things happen. I recently listened to an enlightening sermon about not pretending trials are all injected with sunshine. Before Jesus brought Lazarus back to life, he wept over his untimely death. Jesus cried a lot. Our anatomical response to tragedy is sadness and that’s not something we should attempt to twist into artificial smiles. But in our day-to-day grind, there are opportunities to find the goodness in routine situations and the reward is enveloping joy.
“Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things.“
Phillipians 4:8
