Embracing the tougher rapids in my paddling journey
Photo supplied by Sarah Jenkins
By Sarah Jenkins, Athlete Partner
For years, I’ve approached every training session with a beaming smile, driven by a deep love for multisport, kayaking and challenging myself. My journey into multisport began about eight years ago when I entered my first Coast to Coast event. After about a year into training, I brought a coach on board, and almost immediately, saw some rapid progress. Learning new techniques and pushing my limits became rather addictive. Along the way participating in lots of different and challenging events and connecting with others that were like-minded forming some long-term friendships. Aside from one health setback in 2020 and 2021—in the lead up to when I was diagnosed with Lupus—my progression in the sport has been pretty steady, almost linear. I felt I was constantly growing, both physically and mentally.
Then, 2024 happened. I pushed my training schedule a little too far, filling my calendar to the brim, saying yes to almost every opportunity. I wanted to see how far I could go and how much I could push, striving mainly for perfection in every aspect of my life and focusing a lot of attention on the outcome. But, as it happened, the push led me to my limits—physically, mentally and emotionally without me realising for some time. The joy and beaming smile I once had started to fade. Training and the daily tasks became a chore and my motivation started to lack. I was struggling in training sessions more than I ever had before, and for the first time in years, I felt like I was going backwards.
That decline culminated at this year's Coast to Coast. I didn’t perform at the level I knew I was capable of. It wasn’t the years of steady progress I had expected and celebrated every other year. And while that was tough to swallow, it also became a rather pivotal turning point and I now see it as a reminder and have come to appreciate that growth isn’t always a straight line. And perhaps more importantly, that a step back isn’t a failure - it’s a chance to pause, reset, and grow in new ways.
Photo supplied by Sarah Jenkins
It’s taken a bit of work but over the past few months, I’ve begun to shift my perspective. I’ve been writing a lot down which has also helped me to process things. I’ve come to see that setbacks are not the opposite of progress; they’re part of it. Sport, like life, is a series of seasons—and sometimes the most important ones are the quieter, reflective ones. They teach us to listen deeply and to treat ourselves with the same kindness we’d show our friends, family and those that support us throughout our journey.
This reset has been a gift.
In paddling - and in life - it’s sometimes necessary to hit the reboot button. But the best thing is, when we come back, we do so with more clarity, resilience and a renewed sense of purpose.
I’m still on the journey. But now, I’m paddling with much more gratitude, and my beaming smile has returned.
I’ve also realised that connection plays a huge part in this journey. During those months, I leant in on my friends, family, and my husband mostly. Their encouragement, quiet check-ins, or just shared laughs on a fun training session or over a coffee has made all the difference. Sometimes, strength isn’t just found in pushing hard, but in letting others in – something I’ve never been particularly good at. The mindset shift has allowed me to rediscover joy in the process rather than just focusing on the outcome.
Looking ahead, I know that there will be even tougher rapids to get through, but there is something powerful in knowing that I have more strength to navigate through them—and that with every braid in the river brings with it new lessons, new perspective, and opportunities to grow. Its those small moments, stacked over time, that redefine resilience. But also that its not about conquering it all flawlessley but about staying in the boat, paddle in hand, no matter how rough the water is.