The Older I Get, the More I Value Physical Strength and Endurance
So if you’ve read me long enough, you’ll know that I’m an extreme introvert. To tell you the truth, I hate it when people pity me and think that I’m closed off and physically weak because I don’t want external stimulation and have a low tolerance for it. In fact, I despise the idea that introverts are inferior to extroverts because they don’t want to do as many things and prefer a low-key lifestyle (and to fill gaps of time with rest and relaxation). Speaking for myself, performing as someone I’m not to appease others and have them talk over me is really draining, so I choose to disengage.
Because I don’t like to do a lot of things or interact with large groups of people or care to keep up with social events (whether it’s digitally or in-person), there’s the assumption that it means I’m physically weak and I’m too depressed. Enjoying solitude does not mean depression. It’s something I crave the most.
I hate the assumption that I have poor heart health because I don’t have constant activity online and if I do, I don’t share many personal details and seem pretty absent.
No, I just shut down when I feel like my boundaries are being crossed and I’m being forced to perform or agree with something because I feel pressured to. It’s draining to have to say yes all the time to protect myself from someone’s anger.
It has nothing to do with physical weakness. How can someone who is capable of walking for 10 hours a day be weak anyway?
First of all, let me correct this false narrative.
Here’s a list of physical capabilities I’ve demonstrated throughout my life:
As a kid, one of my quirks (much to the annoyance of my grandmother and aunt) was getting so excited when I saw stairs at the shopping mall and running up and down those stairs for two hours. I wore them out because they were walking behind me making sure I didn’t get out of their sight.
I LOVED swimming as a child. By age seven, I’d already learned the basics of survival swimming and frequently lingered in the deep end of the pool. By age eight, I could dive from a very tall diving board (at least 12 ft. high) and plunge into deep waters. I’d beg my mom to take me to the pool every day after school (this was before her surgery). Highlights of my summers include going to Water Country USA (and I wouldn’t listen to my dad when he told me not to go to the deepest end of the wave pool).
I’d climb on top of monkey bars as a kid. Yes, there was a huge risk of falling, but I was perfectly capable of balancing on top of those monkey bars (of various shapes and sizes) without injuring myself.
I once drove through Tennessee during a tornado with drastically reduced visibility in bumper-to-bumper traffic. I did not get into an accident.
I have quick reflexes in general. This has saved me countless times.
After 10 hours of walking, I feel like I can still go on. Like I have a brisk, militaristic walk (coupled with a no-nonsense scowl on my face). Walking a lot doesn’t actually tire me. But social performance where I have to pretend to be someone other than myself or listening to someone yapping and not letting me voice my opinions? 10 minutes of that is exhausting.
Every time I walk, I remind myself that the people who think I’m weak should be afraid of me because I can totally outpace them and they’d better get out of my way. My mom said I walked more like a guy than my brother.
I’d beat the boys in arm wrestling (well, this was before adolescence).
In school gym class, I was the only girl who could do 4 pull ups. I also beat at least a third of the boys.
I hiked up a mountain (forgot what it was called but it was pretty) in the Shenandoah Valley at age 10. It was an ecstatic experience.
I can lift up to 50 pounds, which is about 40% of my body weight.
I have the skill of physical super speed at all things that require dexterity. That was tested on the job. I’m really good at not knocking over things piled on top of each other.
My ballet teacher told me that it seemed like I had wings on my feet (due to me jumping the highest). I’ve had symbolic dreams about flying high all throughout my life. It’s why I identify with birds, and feel like I must do something grand and memorable with this symbolism.
I can endure 16 hours without food and simple food is all I need. Which can only be good for my heart health. No sweet tooth. No craving for fatty foods. I’m good with eating the simplest meals.
I feel like out of everyone in my immediate family, I’d survive a global disaster the longest because I’m more agile, flexible, and am very used to walking long distances. I can make sacrifices and am really not a fussy person about frivolous things. I can sleep on the ground, no problem.
As far as I know, I’m perfectly healthy. And opting out of paths that I felt were forced on me is my choice to make. Not a sign of weakness.
Physical capabilities have been far more useful to me, and toughness is something I admire more as I get older, and I’ve come to appreciate that as being a significant part of who I am - just get up and show some real grit (to move swiftly without worrying about who is disapproving of me or who will never give me permission).
As for vacation ideas, a lot of them honestly involve hiking and outdoor activities in general. That’s where my sense of adventure lies. I’m one of those weird people who is more excited about Yellowstone than NYC.