Practicing setbacks
I’ve come to realize that setbacks are something I intentionally practice. Every time I go out for a run—whether it’s bitterly cold or scorchingly hot, or even on those bone-chilling mornings where it feels like the world has dipped to -20 or -30 degrees Celsius (that’s around -4 to -22 Fahrenheit, for my Fahrenheit friends)—each run is a small, personal setback.
These runs aren’t just about physical endurance or pushing my body to its limits. They're a way of enforcing my will, of strengthening my desire to fully experience life. Sure, there’s the chemical rush of dopamine afterward, that undeniable high from physical exertion. But what I’m really chasing is something deeper. These runs, these little daily setbacks, build an inner resilience and leave me with this quiet, powerful sense of, I can.
Interestingly, it’s not about motivation for me. Motivation is fleeting; it's a friend that shows up only when it wants to. No, this is about making sure I don’t give myself a choice. Getting out of bed every morning, heading out into the cold, jumping into a freezing shower—I do these things in the same way I breathe, without thinking twice. It’s just part of my routine.
Why go through these self-imposed challenges? I think it’s because, somewhere deep down, I know that life will throw much larger setbacks my way. These daily practices aren’t a guarantee that I’ll be ready for whatever comes, but they give me a fighting chance. And along the way, they help me appreciate the simpler moments in life, making them richer, fuller.
So, each day, I set up these little trials for myself. And with each one, I feel just a bit more prepared, not just to survive, but to live well, with resilience and a quiet confidence that whatever life has in store, I’ll find a way through.