I'm a ridiculously hard on myself overachiever who always just has to do the most. In my little pea brain, I know it won't stop with a sprint. I'll need to do an Olympic. And then a 70.3. And then a 140.6. Like, I will have to have the terminal degree of triathloning before I can be happy with myself. It's just who I am. I recognize this. I don't have to WIN these races, but I will need to finish. Maybe just the 70.3, though. Running a marathon after all that other bullshit just seems like a terrible thing to do.
I digress.
So. I think I have mentioned before that one of the reasons I signed up for this crazy sport is because I have fears. I am afraid of a lot of things. Here is a list that is not comprehensive.
Non furry animals with more than 4 legs
Amoeba
Ebola
E Coli
Ring avulsion
Necrotizing fasciitis
Spiders
Gum stuck under a table
Flava Flav
Falling in front of people
Drowning
Sepsis
Tooth decay
Triathlons force me to confront a few of these fears at the same time. Learning how to ride a bike, as an adult, was a very scary endeavor because, well, you know all the things that can happen if you were to fall. As a youth, I had expensive orthodontia and as an adult, I have had a good amount of dental work done to make these pearly whites the best they can be. The possibility of falling and ruining what amounts to 10s of thousands of dollars and years of painful rubber bands and bracket work is daunting. But I did it. And after getting my gears fixed (from all the crashes you've read about), I consider myself a pretty solid, awesome beginning rider.
Learning how to swim had me looking completely like this.
But after tons of time in the pool, a shitload of YouTube videos, and several burning gulps of chlorine later, I managed to remove the fear of drowning from that list. So, if we're keeping count. I've already fallen in front of people and have conquered my fear of drowning.
What I had NOT yet mastered was the open water swim (OWS). You see, it is very easy to get used to the calm and serenity of a gym pool where people have etiquette, lanes are clearly marked, and you can see the bottom of this gathering of water. It's a very safe atmosphere to master the basics and then seek to improve things like your stroke speed, turnover, and basic awesomeness. What the pool does NOT do, though, is get you prepared for the OWS.
I am a selective germaphobe. Anyone who has been to my house knows that I'm not OCD about cleanliness and can tolerate a moderate to high level of disarray. I have a dog. He always smells like dog. I don't mind the grimy feeling of dried sweat that has crusted on your forehead after a brick. I don't give much thought to the microscopic mites that crawl on you in your sleep or that live in your pillow. Shit, I mean, what are you going to do? Live in a bubble? These things are part of life for me and I can wash them off with ease whenever I feel. OWS sitchies are different.
Living things - like bacteria and amoebae and viruses - can camp out in open water, though. Like lakes and streams and rivers. These beautiful, serene natural occurrences can harbor deadly organisms whose sole purpose is to make your eye puss and implode. And make you skin die on itself and fall off. They scare the shit out of me and, until today, I had not done a single OWS.
Welp. That had to change. With an OWS looming on race day, I needed to conquer ALL my fears - the legit ones AND the ones I made up in my head - in order to make sure I didn't DNF on the dang swim. So, while on vacation, I set up some time to hang out with the AWESOME Kris who I met through an Athena tri club on Facebook. Kris is, like, a tri goddess as far as I am concerned. She has a husband, 3 precious babies, a job, and still finds time to train. Like legit train. She is strong and fabulous and she is not afraid of the open water. When she extended the invitation, I jumped at the chance because I knew 1) I had to get it done and 2) conquering this fear with someone I trusted made me feel way safer.
So we went to the lake by her house. Immediately my heart rate shot up. There were geese. Geese go poo even in the water. The poo is then in the water. Like all the water molecules. I would be putting my face in goose poop. Immediately I wanted to vomit. Then I had to take my flip flops off and walk to the lake. Again, heart rate sky high. I had to dodge the goose poop I COULD see to get to the goose poop I wouldn't be able to see.
I wanted to cry. This was, for real, me on the inside.
I hide my fears pretty well. I mean, when you've lived the life I have, where it is important to hide what you're thinking and feeling lest you incur wrath, you get good at hiding ALL THE THINGS including your scaredy cat tears because you don't want anyone to know you are collapsing on the inside and waiting for your body to fall apart. But it won't because it doesn't love you. And you don't even love you because you made you walk on goose poop and now you have E Coli on your feet.
And you haven't even stepped foot in the water.
Now. As I mentioned, the super awesome Kris was my OWS sherpa and this is where we were able to swim.
Could you ask for anything more scenic? Unfortunately it was grey and cloudy when we got there, but this picture is awesome so just keep thinking it looked like this today LOL. So we waded in and Kris kept talking the whole time, wisely keeping me distracted from the fact that every step I took felt like I was sinking into slimy animal doodoo and onto turtle shells. And snakes. She advised that I breathe slowly and deeply and take my time and let the anxiety pass. Wiser words were never spoken. I was in complete panic mode and all I could think about was how close the shower was and whether or not anyone would notice that I scrubbed off the visible layer of skin to make sure I didn't have necrotizing fasciitis laying eggs in my pores.
But I didn't have a choice. The race is in 2 weeks and all I had was pool swim exposure so I had to stop acting like a baby (babies are probably more gangsta than I was at this point) and keep it moving. Once I got over the chill of the water (I do not own an expensive ass wetsuit LOL) and once Kris had talked me off the "My foot is sinking into quicksand and I will die" ledge, I was ready to try some swimming. Finally. And then this happened.
It was seaweed or a snake or Voldemort. Or E Coli. Kris laughed and I laughed as well because, seriously, I'm 37 and having these issues!!!! So I took some more deep breaths and went for broke. I had told myself I would keep my eyes closed underwater and open them to breathe and sight. I lied to myself. After maybe my second stroke, I opened my eyes and this is what I saw.
Not a damn thing! Just looked like green diarrhea and farts under there. I had no concept of depth, distance, nothing! Revert back to panic mode to try and immediately see sky and sun and find Kris, who basically served as the beacon of reason in this endeavor. Once I regained my footing (I kept saying "Whoops, no sediment here!") I turned to Kris and began to apologize for being slow...for being new...for being afraid...for holding up her workout. She said to me, almost word for damn word, what I said to another friend of mine who recently began her fitness journey. "I didn't come out here for a workout. I came out here so you could conquer your fear and be super badass! Do not apologize for that!"
Yes ma'am!!!
At that point, it was ON AND DAMN POPPING! Yes, I still had moments when I was certain a sea urchin would stingraykill me. I still had moments when I foolishly opened my eyes and saw the blur of green nothingness that scared me. I still had moments when I, in my haste to breathe, inhaled some water and knew, for CERTAIN, the Ebola would kill me in 3 hours. But I also knew I had a friend there with me who, at the end of the day, wouldn't let anything happen to me.
You see, as much as training for this race has made me a stronger person, physically, it has made me far more open to meeting and talking to other people going through similar journeys. It has made me recognize that leaning on the wisdom of others is as much a strength as gaining wisdom on your own. And it has made me realize that conquering fears makes you A MUTHA FUCKIN ROCK STAR, GAWTDAMMIT!
The victory I celebrate today is not my taming of the OWS. It's the victory won by being vulnerable enough to express your fears and open enough to let someone help you through them.
For my trophy? Maggiano's Butter Cake. Yup. I sure did. :)
No comments:
Post a Comment