yes, I can

Today’s Ultimate Blogging Challenge prompt is to talk about a valuable lesson that I learned that helped me overcome a challenge.

When I was in school, I really struggled with physical education. I was in a class with kids who were at my grade level. But it felt as if I were in a class with kids who were two years ahead of me. Having a late September birthday means that most of my classmates were older than I. You had to be born before mid-December of that year to be able to enter kindergarten with kids who were born in the year that you were. Not only was I younger than most of my classmates, I was also smaller and my motor skills were developmentally delayed. I walked on my hands and feet until I was two and a half years old. One day, I started walking and never stopped. What that meant was that many of the kids were a year or more ahead of me in gross motor skills. Most likely, I had dyspraxia, also known as developmental coordination disorder.

Here is a link that explains dyspraxia in children: https://mentalhealthcenterkids.com/blogs/articles/dyspraxia-in-children

At that time, adults didn’t think about getting extra help for a child who appeared clumsy, unccordinated, and unable to keep pace with their peers. These days, kids like me would get early intervention, which would include physical and occupational therapy. Back then, we were just called clumsy and were left to fend for ourselves. If we struggled, it was because we weren’t trying hard enough. If we couldn’t catch a softball, it was because we weren’t paying attention. If we were always chosen last for a team, we were expected to “get over it.”

‘The reality is that the human heart isn’t that resilient.

The lessons that we take away from being told “you can’t,” unfortunately, carry more weight than those that we take away from being told, “yes, you can.” We remember the negativity coming from people who are supposed to know much more than we. I remember being in a synchornized swimming show when I was in high school. About a month prior to the performance, the gym teacher recommended to me that I quit because “You can’t do this.”

“No,” I said. I’ve always been really stubborn.

I wondered if my stubbornness was a bad trait but, then, I remembered Meg from one of my favorite books, “A Wrinkle in Time.” Before she and her friend Calvin and her brother Charles Wallace were left in Camozotz to find her lost father, Mrs. Whatsit gave her two gifts. Those gifts were Meg’s faults and Mrs. Whatsit’s love. Both gifts turned out to be more powerful in a way that Meg never anticipated.

At the time, I didn’t realize what a gift stubbornness was.

I did perform in the synchronized swimming show. It was fun. I had that feeling of yes I can.

It was a good moment. I moved on from high school into my adult life that didn’t include physical education. Physical fitness was something I was responsible for. I walked and I even took dance classes at times, but that was it.

Until six and a half years ago.

A friend posted on Facebook that she was doing a physical fitness challenge, and she encouraged anyone who was interested to join her. Without even thinking, I commented, “I want to do that.”

Afterwards, I thought, “What was I thinking? I’ll last two weeks, if that long!”

But I’m too stubborn to quit after two weeks.

I started weight training with soup cans. Before long, I upgraded to three pound weights. I thought that I was very strong indeed.

My sister gave me a gift. It was one eight pound weight.

“That looks wonderful,” I said, thinking that I would never be strong enough to use that weight to do exercises. Well, there was just one of them. A few months later, my sister gave me a second eight pound weight. I called them “visual aids.” I look at eight pound weights and magically become strong.

The day came, however, when I could use those eight pound weights.

Months after I started my physical fitness journey, I realized that this was going to be for the long haul. Quitting was no longer an option. The memories of the teachers in the past who said “you can’t” and the classmates of the past who didn’t want me to be their teammates were fading. The sting was becoming weaker. I only remember that negativity as a thing that I could reject and overcome. I understood that the stubbornness that I thought was a failure on my part was my gift.

When I work on strength training and on building my core, I remember where I came from and I feel confident about where I am going.

I now have ten pound and twelve pound weights. I feel strong and capable and ready to take on challenges. I still have challenges with balance and with coordination in general. That is okay. I have had to put a lot of effort into physical fitness because of the struggles that I’ve faced with my own body. Nevertheless, I have been told over and over again, “Yes, you can. If one exercise is too difficult, I can modify it and then I can do it in a different way.

I am feeling much stronger than I did when I had to compete against kids who were bigger and stronger than I was. Today, I only have to compete against myself. I can see the growth. I am stronger than I used to be and not as strong as I will be. That gift of stubbornness has been the gift that continues to give.