The Impermanence of Fitness

In years gone by, when I got super fit, I wanted to hold on to it forever.

I'd worked hard to build it, and the last thing I wanted was to let it go.

I love having the ability to stack hard day after hard day.
I love hitting big numbers and the feeling of pride that comes with conquering a challenging session.
I love that compounding sense of confidence and capability that takes months to build but feels like it can vanish overnight.

I used to operate from a scarcity mindset around fitness.

“I need to protect this.”
“I need to do everything I can to hold onto it.”

As if loosening the grip on my training and routine even slightly would cause the whole thing to unravel.

I'm actually in great shape right now. Probably as fit as I've been in years.

But something has shifted in how I look at my fitness.

There have been some changes in my life that forced me into territory I hadn't chosen. Uncertainty, loss, grief, rebuilding from the ground up have been a reality for me through the start of this year. The inner work that comes with that kind of upheaval changes you. You learn, slowly and sometimes painfully, that you can lose things you love and still be okay. That clinging doesn't preserve anything. That the things worth having are worth experiencing, not desperately protecting.

And that’s directly impacted how I’m looking at my fitness now.

I'm deeply grateful for it. I'm enjoying it fully. The hard sessions, the capable body, the numbers that reflect months of consistent work.

But I'm not white-knuckling it anymore. I know after I race in 5 weeks time, it will change. Everything does.

The goal isn't to make it last forever. It's to really appreciate it while you have it.

That's the impermanence of fitness.
And If you sit with it long enough, it starts to look a lot like everything else in life.