Category: Mental Preparation

What do you see in this picture?

I see beauty, potential; but inside I feel longing, anxiety, mostly fear.

That’s what I told myself, my clients, my coach, my friends.

After two days of worry and wonder, I finally faced my fear and waded into the ocean.

It was brisk, I expected that. I stepped on something that crunched, that was surprising. I wanted to pick my feet up. Ear plugs, cap, goggles — poised, ready to do their job. I stood there, paralyzed. I finally convinced myself to submerge and push off. My arms turned over much more quickly than usual. And my legs were kicking—I never kick! I kept my eye trained on the vast expanse of blue, breathing every other stroke, periodically stealing glaces of my husband walking along the shore. I tried to stop and float, but relaxing was impossible in the brisk, sloshy surf. Allowing my arms to churn again after 20, maybe 30, strokes I saw a head pop up about 20 feet from me… gasp!

Probably just a seal, I had seen one here two years before. Then I saw a big splash—what was that?

I was once pummeled by waves in Hawaii on a red flag day. A pool lifeguard as soon as I was old enough to get my certification, I knew I wasn’t beach smart, but I never thought I’d need rescue. This day, I did. A naive 20 something, I did not heed the clear warning.

Since that experience, 20 years ago, I’ve been anxious about the ocean. I thought that I had a deep rooted fear due to that single event.

But when I stop and think about it, since then I’ve done a triathlon in Vineyard Sound. Jumped off a boat in Maine. Swam a marathon around Harrington Sound in Bermuda. Played in the surf in Mexico. Done laps around Aquatic Park in San Francisco. Probably a few other events that elude my top of mind memories.

I thought I was giving a voice to my fear. When in fact I was letting fear consume me. I didn’t acknowledge the work I was doing to keep coming back.

Fear is not something that disappears overnight. Especially when there are real risks. It’s something you chip away at, little by little.

If you don’t have opportunity to practice, it takes more energy to summon the courage. But you have it in you. I see it.

I respect the ocean. I am in awe of its force. I would like to understand her better. But I will no longer label it: fear.

On the last day I strode confidently toward the water. It was refreshing. The waves broke at my knees. As I waded further, they broke at my waist, halting my progress. I put on my goggles and watched the waves slosh and splash and imagined myself crossing a channel. There were more breaks, they seemed never ending. I embraced the moment and dunked under. Waded a wee bit further. Picked up my feet, tried to catch a wave. Got pummeled. Found my way upright.

Going in with no expectations, I felt pride in getting wet; playing in the waves. I started the long walk to dry sand. As I looked for my bearings onshore, I realized that I must’ve been caught in a rip tide that carried me 10 yards down the coast.

I chuckled inside, I was afraid of that too.

I look forward to coming back to the Oregon coast and getting to know her better. I look forward to learning more about the ways of the ocean. Study at home, practice when the opportunity presents itself.

When is fear reasonable? When is using the word, “fear”, holding you back? Is it really fear or just uncertainty? Overwhelm? Take the time to analyze it.

Fear, is overcome by chipping away: bit by bit. Just like improving your form: practice by practice. Or completing a marathon swim: stroke by stroke. If you do nothing, nothing is sure to happen. Summon the courage.

Ready to improve your form? I’m hosting a free webinar tomorrow, September 3, 2020! Keep it Simple: The Basics of Efficient Swimming 9AM Pacific/12 PM Eastern.

Want to join a like minded group of limit pushers? I’m launching my Quickstart for Marathon Swimming course on September 10th!

I lost it today. I was spiraling. When will it end? I can’t breathe. I can’t think. I snap.

I snap at my partner. I snap at my kids. I snap at my dog.

It was the first time that it happened – at least the first time it happened this bad. The first time since school closed. Work ended. All of the open water events that I planned for myself, and for others – everything suddenly off the table. All of my training to date, for nothing.

I was getting along pretty well. Accepting a new routine, day in and day out with my kids. Breakfast. Story time. Legos. Lunch. Play outside. Another dinner. Dishes. More dishes. And laundry. Every. Single. Day.

I love my kids. They’re funny! Curious. Creative. Compassionate one minute, violent the next. And boy can they can push my buttons! Being with them day in and day out has made me realize how much I was missing by dropping them off at preschool each day and rushing home so that I could work. Rushing here. Rushing there. All of that has come to a halt.

And I’ve been stuck in this place a lot over the last month…

My comfort zone.

This is what it looks like: coffee until noon, long showers where I keep turning up the hot until it runs out, wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday, extra sharp cheddar cheese on Ritz crackers, Cheez Its (the whole box), an entire bottle of wine, and watching movies into the night.

It’s comfortable here.

I could do dry land. Pilates. I could spin. Or do yoga. I could make healthy choices. But I’m spiraling the shame drain. Eat. Drink. Watch. Sleep. Wake. Regret. Eat. Drink. Watch. Sleep. Wake. Regret.

Then I remember something I learned in biology class, way back when…

Something my kids remind me of all the time. You see, initially I was afraid to take them to the schoolyard, because I thought they would be too tempted by the playground — that’s closed — now they say, “let’s go scoot in the parking lot!” I was afraid to pass by the library — that’s closed — now they say, “I want to climb tress by the library!” I feared going to grandmas house, because who doesn’t want hugs and snuggles from grandma? Now when I say, grandma’s coming over, they say, “I’ll blow her a kiss!” Everyday they remind me that we are adaptable beings. And while I may not be as malleable as I once was, I can, in fact, adapt.

We adapt to new seasons. New situations. New gadgets. New technology. Now we are adapting to new platforms for communication and connection.

At times I feel frustrated. Delight! Angst. Glee! Never boredom. Usually overwhelm.

But I can adapt. This forced break in my routine has provided a good reminder, that I can set the pace of my life.

I’m not going to wait with baited breath for everything to go back to “normal” or the way things were. I’m going to adapt.

Try talking to yourself out loud. Think I’m crazy? Try it! It’s a great way to think about what you’re thinking. It works great with kids. When I start narrating what I’m doing, they start asking questions. Then I have to explain why I’m doing something. But even before I had kids, I caught myself in out loud musings — “What are you doing? I’m eating another handful of Cheez Its. Why am I standing in the pantry eating Cheez Its?” Sometimes hearing yourself say it out loud will make you think twice. Then you can try something else.

Of course, these are extraordinary times, and sometimes I give myself grace, finish the box of Cheez Its, and plan to do better tomorrow. Sometimes I close the box and walk away.

Give yourself a break, but also get a new perspective. Who do you want to be?

I ask myself, do I want to be the snappy, cranky, person that I’m being? Do I want to hide in the pantry eating Cheez Its?

Make a plan. What would this person do? How would their day go? What would they eat for breakfast? Then give it a shot!

Does it fit? Maybe. Maybe not. If I snap, or I find myself in my pantry hording Cheez Its again. I start over.

This is the person that I’m trying on right now: Each day I make a schedule with my kids. Some days we stick to it. Some days we don’t. The days that we do go better than the ones when we don’t. Honestly, I never wanted to be a highly scheduled parent–or person! But I do love it when my days go well. So that’s what I’m trying on right now.

And on Tuesday and Thursday mornings I get up at 5:00 AM Pacific to talk to marathon swimmers and hear their stories. I’ve realized that I like getting up at that time so much, that I stopped drinking entire bottles of wine and watching movies into the night so that I can get up at that time every day.

This is going to be more of a marathon than a sprint. How do you make it through a marathon? Take it bit by bit. Just make it to the next feed. Create a plan, but be ready for it to go out the window when Mother Nature decides to have her way with you. Then make a new plan. Repeat.

Are you a seasoned, aspiring, or intrigued marathon swimmer? Join The Marathon Swimming Collective where we support and encourage each other on our journeys!