Grip Strength

When I think of endurance, three things come to mind.

1. The stamina to continue an effort—like running a marathon.
2. The capacity to absorb pain—like holding something really heavy.
3. The resolve of Ernest Shackleton's 1914 Antarctic expedition turned rescue saga (his ship was named Endurance).

Each require something different, but share a commonality: perspective.

My mom and I went for a walk by the lake yesterday. Catching up, we talked about my recent decision to dial back the volume of my writing. It's something I hadn't really considered until faced with a different perspective. But after seeing the logic, I couldn't unsee it. So, when I shared a bit about that process with my mom, I was struck by a memory that felt quite relevant.

At seven years old, my first time snowboarding became a rather ironic blueprint for how I handle adversity. I'd started skiing at age two, thanks to mom, so I was pretty comfortable with sliding on snow. But I thought snowboarding was the coolest thing I'd ever seen. Finally, mom gave in.

There was a ski area in the town over from where I grew up. It was a small ski hill. The learning area had a rope-tow you'd grab hold of to glide up the slope before letting go and riding down. Watching how the other snowboarders had done it, I shuffled up next to the rope and tried to figure out what the hell I was supposed to do with it. Setting my feet, I bent down and grabbed the rope with my hand. My arm sprang forward and I fell over immediately. But I didn't let go. I held on until that thing dragged me all the way up the slope.

Then, finally, once I was sure I'd reached the top... I let go.

The way I saw it, this gave me the most room to figure out what I was doing on the way back down. Everyone else only went up part way before letting go of the rope. Which meant they didn't have a whole lot of space to learn to snowboard before they'd need to use the rope-tow again.

That’s when endurance, for me, became about grip strength — not just stamina or pain tolerance, but about resolve. Like Shackleton. Above all, it taught me that adjusting your perspective is the key.

We often think endurance sounds like "just a little bit more" or "look, we're almost there." But after decades of increasing how much further I could go, I'd finally learned when to opt out—and how to be ok with it. That said, I'm a work in progress like the rest of us. So, sometimes, a reminder shifts my perspective just enough to opt out sooner than last time.

Endurance can be about holding on tight. And, it can also look like resisting the urge to squeeze too tightly.

I’m forever learning which to use and when.

Our Daily MAP Year Prompt 
10/365

When you think of endurance, what comes to mind?

Would you change anything?

onward.
-dmac