05/02/2026
Big shoutout to the incredible women at the United Alberta Paddling Society! Thanks to support from InMotion Network Promoting Physical Activity for Girls and Women, 2025 was a year of growth, certifications, and inspiring returns to the water. From instructor training and leadership development to moms conquering new challenges, these women prove that paddling is for everyone.
Check out our latest newsletter here, featuring Ashley Smith’s “Coming Back to Water”: https://mailchi.mp/fba596a674d1/uapswomen (also below).
Coming back to the water, by Ashley Smith
For a long time, I didn’t realize how much of my life could be traced back to water.
Kayaking has come in and out of my life for more than fifteen years. Sometimes it was a passion. Sometimes it disappeared entirely. And sometimes it hovered quietly in the background, waiting for me to be ready again.
My life over those years hasn’t followed a straight line. There were seasons marked by mental health struggles, physical injury, and the deep identity shift that comes with career evolutions and becoming a mother. There were times when getting through the day felt like enough—when strength meant surviving, not thriving.
During those periods, I lost pieces of myself. Or maybe I just set them down because I didn’t have the capacity to carry everything at once.
Kayaking was one of those pieces.
When I returned to it in the summer of 2025, it wasn’t accidental. It came back because I chose it. I chose to take ownership of my health again—my mental agility, my physical strength, and my sense of who I am outside of the roles I carry for others.
That return wasn’t about proving anything. It was about rebuilding trust with my body. About learning how to be uncomfortable without panicking. About moving forward even when I wasn’t sure of the outcome.
What I didn’t expect was how deeply that choice would ripple into my family.
Kayaking has shaped my husband’s life just as much as it has shaped mine. We took up the sport together as an adventure when I had blown both of my ACLs playing sports. It became something we shared—a space where we could reconnect, reset, and remember that we are partners, not just co-managers of a busy life. Over time, it has become something we have now brought our children into, carefully and intentionally.
Watching our daughter and son step into boats, hesitate, try, wobble, and try again has been one of the most grounding experiences of my life. Kayaking has become a way we teach them confidence—not the loud kind, but the quiet kind that grows when you face something that feels scary and discover you can handle it.
It’s shown them that pushing your comfort zone doesn’t mean doing reckless things. It means being in an environment that is safe, supportive, and surrounded by people who want to see you succeed.
Community has mattered more than I can fully explain.
The paddling community across North America gave me something I didn’t know I was missing: belonging without expectation. Encouragement without judgment. Space to grow without needing to explain myself.
Joining UAPS and meeting Lori has been especially meaningful moments in that journey. Their support came at a time when I was rebuilding—physically, mentally, emotionally. Sometimes support looks like coaching. Sometimes it looks like quiet reassurance. Sometimes it looks like simply not being alone. Lori and the mom community with UAPS has embodied all of that for me.
Today, kayaking is no longer just something I do. It’s part of how I live. It’s part of how I parent. It’s part of how my husband and I show up for each other.
It reminds me—and teaches my children—that strength is not fixed, that identity evolves, and that confidence grows when you’re willing to show up, even when the water feels uncertain.
Especially then.
