I completed my first triathlon on Sunday, and the following Tuesday, I gave my fourth speech at the Everybody Speaks Toastmasters Club. I wrote a speech based on this experience and the insights gained from feeling the joy of dedicating myself to one thing for an extended period. The key takeaway was the importance of remaining kind to myself without getting buried in the pressure to outperform others or even myself. The following the script of the speech I gave:

Good evening, fellow Toastmasters. Today, I am going to give you a speech about how I carried my passion for swimming for 16 years without letting the pressure steal the joy away. I will take the feedback from the evaluator and give a revised version of this speech.

Last weekend, just before this Toastmasters meeting, I swam in Aquatic Park, fending off some curious seals. That’s why my hair was wet. Why was I there, you ask? I was preparing for a triathlon that took place this past Sunday. For those unfamiliar, a triathlon is a sport where you consecutively complete swimming, biking, and running—all in one go.

It was a gorgeous day in Santa Cruz. The ocean breeze was refreshing, another group of seals was lounging nearby, and I was riding along Highway One with the Pacific Ocean as my backdrop. I couldn’t have been happier to fulfill one of my life’s dreams.

After the race, my friends asked me, “So, what’s next?” I didn’t have an immediate answer. Sure, I have a lot of chores piling up—like following up with customer service from a notorious French airline that lost my luggage, or sending a card to my friend who just had a baby. But I knew that’s not what they were asking. They wanted to know what my next big challenge would be.

To many of my friends, I might seem like an adrenaline junkie, hopping from one challenge to another. Yes, I felt an incredible rush after the race—no doubt about it. But when I invite them to join me on these adventures, most politely decline, saying I’m too hardcore. Today, I want to share that this perception couldn’t be further from the truth.

Throughout my childhood, I never enjoyed exercising because, quite frankly, I wasn’t good at it. I excelled in academics—that was my comfort zone, my identity. I was competitive but only in areas where I knew I could succeed. Sports? I avoided them like the plague, not wanting to expose my weaknesses.

In my early twenties, life threw me a curveball. I developed acute back pain from scoliosis and joint issues. I entered rehabilitation, diligently performing the prescribed exercises, but improvement was elusive. Frustrated and dejected, I was desperate for a remedy. My doctor suggested swimming, noting its benefits for the back.

So, I took the plunge—literally. I started swimming, not just to alleviate my pain but also to confront my fear of embracing something I wasn’t naturally good at. For the next ten years, I swam regularly. It was the first time I dedicated myself to an activity knowing I might never excel at it, but I did it anyway.

Fast forward 16 years, and there I was, swimming 1.5 kilometers in 39 minutes. Not record-breaking by any means, but for someone who learned to swim as an adult out of desperation, it was an incredible achievement. The irony is, I could maintain this consistent effort because I let go of the pressure to be the best. I wasn’t trying to outpace others or even beat my own records. I just showed up, put in the work, and enjoyed being in the water.This journey taught me a profound lesson. By releasing the need to compete, I found a deep connection with nature and a sense of peace I’d never experienced before. All my life, I believed that success required pressure and a relentless drive to outperform. But by dropping that mindset, I opened myself up to genuine joy and fulfillment.

A few years ago, I walked the Camino de Santiago with a friend who had completed it four times. When I asked if he would walk again, he said no, because he didn’t see as much laughter on the path as in his previous journeys. He observed people primarily focusing on getting from point A to point B, fully exhausted by the end and rushing themselves the next day to walk as fast and far as they could. Then, he asked what I do to be kind to myself. I couldn’t come up with a great answer. Up to that point, I had put myself in a race with myself or others around me and put pressure on myself to perform. Since then, being kind to myself has become my number one attitude towards any endeavor.

Now, when I take on new hobbies or challenges, I approach them differently. I don’t stress about being excellent or proving myself to others. I focus on the experience, embrace the long, daunting learning curve, and most importantly, I’m kind to myself.

So, what’s next? Honestly, I’m not sure. Maybe I’ll pick up salsa dancing or learn to speak Japanese. I’m going to spend time with people I care about, doing things we enjoy together. And when the time feels right, I’ll dive into whatever catches my interest—taking it slow, savoring each moment, and ensuring I don’t let self-imposed pressure steal the joy away.