Progress Isn't Pass/Fail
If it were, I'd never get anywhere!
Hello from Mile Marker 14,432...
Maybe it's my body. Maybe it's my prosthetic.
Maybe it's my age, activity level, expectations. Maybe it's just the weather or the moon's pull on the tide.
Whatever it is, the last 200 miles have been a continual work in progress.
Another casting. Another test socket.
Lucky for me, my prosthetic team does not give up!
At my appointment this week, Prosthetist Tim has just returned from a few days in Pittsburgh.
"I've skated in Pittsburgh!" I say. "It's a great city. Hilly though!"
And just like that, I slip back into to my life before — as comfortable as an old pair of skates.
I tell Tim about the miles I did -- 19, sometimes 20 at a stretch! I tell him all the cities I covered, perfectly balanced, on 8 inline wheels.
I scroll through the photos on my phone, letting those memories breathe again after all these years.
I even find some from Bordeaux, France. I almost forgot I'd skated there!
I was traveling solo back then, but I'd heard there was a group skate on the last Sunday of each month.
So I rented a pair of skates, and tossed them into the basket of a borrowed bike, and rode to the starting line.
That night, I learned to yell "Cobblestones!" and "Tracks!" and "Left turn!" en francais. I coasted through the ancient streets with a hundred other skaters.
I made new friends -- easily, effortlessly -- in a foreign language, on the fly.
It was 4 months before my accident.
In this challenging season, this somehow feels important to share.
Recently, a close friend of mine had a health scare. And while she struggled to get hold of it, we had a few heart-to-hearts about what it's like to live this way -- between abled and disabled -- long term.
I told her a bit of what I've learned about the New Normal over the years.
About leaning into the direction of the day.
Canceling. Rescheduling.
Doing mental somersaults to manage it all.
So here we are.
New prosthetic socket in progress.
The fit will be slightly different; the suspension, finely-tuned. Hopefully more dialed into my needs.
We're not exactly starting over. We're just trying to make progress.
With any luck, progress and hope aren’t that far apart.
When I began this journey, I measured my recovery against the skater I used to be.
She was fast and agile. Energetic and productive. A solo traveler, able to leap curbs (and continents!) in a single bound.
In my early blogposts, you can see it clear as day.
My goal was to get back there. To be the person I was before.
Anything less would be.... Well, it wouldn't be enough.
But in 14,432 miles, I've realized something:
Progress isn't pass/fail.
(If it were, I'd never get anywhere!)
Progress means small steps, improvement by degrees. Progress is pushing onward and doing it — whatever it is — anyway.
On a challenging day, it's whatever gets us out the door.
That's progress.
Walk on,
Rebecca