I’ve spent the past several days hiking, walking – a lot – and exploring some incredibly beautiful places. I even rode an e-bike into Zion National Park for the first time, and I loved every minute of it.
But as beautiful as the scenery has been, something else has stayed with me this week.
It’s the people.
I’ve crossed paths with people of all different ages and all different levels of ability. Some were moving quickly. Others were moving very slowly. Some had walking sticks or trekking poles. I saw people dealing with knee and hip issues who had clearly learned to adjust their pace and how they moved.
One woman in particular caught my attention. She was 81 years old, walking with a stick. She was moving slowly, but she was moving. She was doing what she could and continuing forward.
Then there was a man making his way toward the start of The Narrows with a walker. At one point, I watched as his walker kept getting caught on small roc He would stop, pick up the walker, reposition it, and continue forward.
Over and over again.
There was something incredibly inspiring about watching him.
It reminded me of when I first started teaching fitness. When someone was getting tired, becoming out of breath and reaching the point where they wanted to stop, I would tell them:
Keep moving.
Maybe you need to slow down. Maybe you need to take smaller steps. Maybe what you’re doing today looks different from what someone else is doing.
But keep moving.
That has been one of the unexpected gifts of this trip. Yes, I’ve seen beautiful scenery. I’ve hiked a lot of miles and climbed a lot of steps. I’ve tried something new and discovered that I absolutely love riding an e-bike.
But I’ve also had the privilege of watching people simply do their best with the body they have.
And I think there’s a lesson in that for all of us.
It’s easy to focus on what we can’t do anymore, what hurts, what has changed, or what someone else seems to be able to do more easily. But movement doesn’t have to look the same for everyone – and it certainly doesn’t have to look the same at every stage of our lives.
That’s something I see in the Pilates studio, too.
The goal isn’t to move like the person next to you. It’s to continue working with your own body – to maintain your strength, your balance, your mobility and your confidence so that you can continue doing the things you want to do.
Sometimes that means challenging yourself.
Sometimes it means slowing down.
Sometimes it means modifying.
And sometimes it simply means showing up and doing what you can that day.
The 81-year-old woman wasn’t concerned about how quickly everyone else was hiking. The gentleman with the walker wasn’t letting a rock in his path tell him he was finished.
They just kept moving.
And after watching so many people of different ages and abilities out here this week, I think that may be one of the most important things we can do for ourselves as we get older.
Keep moving. Whatever that looks like for you.
