003 The Gift of Going Slow

Going slow used to feel like something I needed to fix.

In running, slower often gets treated as less than. Less capable. Less serious. Less impressive. And for a long time, I carried that thinking with me, even when I tried not to.

But living with Ataxia has changed my relationship with speed.

It has made me notice what I used to rush past. The weight of a single step. The effort inside balance. The way a body can feel both strong and uncertain at the same time.

Going slow has taught me something I never expected. That pace is not the point.

Presence is.

When I move slowly, I listen more closely. I stop trying to force the day into shape. I stop measuring myself against a version of life that no longer fits. I return to what is real. Breath. Ground. Motion. The quiet decision to keep going.

This is part of what Running is a Gift is really about.

Not chasing a finish line, but learning how to stay with the moment you are in. Letting movement be enough, even when it is imperfect. Letting progress be gentle. Letting the smallest steps still count.

Going slow is not a setback.

It is a way of paying attention.

And sometimes, it is the most honest kind of strength.