Face Today. Embrace Today. Live Today.

The New Year is here to remind us to learn from our past and hope for the future; however, I can't help to think that most of us are just dying for a new year and a new start and neglecting the notion that an entirely new calendar year simply can't change your life by the stroke of midnight.

So, today should be the day to recognize those things that you would change in the progress of time-- and do something about it. Don't worry about the resolution part of it, don't worry about all of those woes and misfortunes. Decide what is keeping you from your own bliss and DO something.

The only one who can dictate how this year will be is YOU. It is not the action of New Year's fairies nor the power of wishing really, really hard with your eyes squinted. If today causes you to reconsider an entire calendar year, then a course of action must be set. For you have no power over the events of a year's time, only the time that you, personally, spend in it--breath by breath.

Longing for a different time (or a different year) forces one to take themselves out of the moment and out of today.

Face today. Embrace today. Live today.

A Path of Most Meaning for Me

I'm not even sure where to start. Good friend, Blogger, it's been awhile.

I haven't necessarily been on strike, nor have I had a lack of content to write about; but for whatever reason, I have kept more of a recluse status since returning from Guadalajara. It's also not depression or my busy schedule. However, as time passes and more life cranks by, I seem to get more and more bogged down by how to catch up and simultaneously write something meaningful and heartfelt. So, finally, I am not going to worry about it anymore. I am just going to write.

Being in the midst of the infamously tumultuous holiday season, I find myself being more and more introspective than normal. My thoughts jump across the sky as though a meteor shower of the mind. Some of those stars resemble my current financial state, or my ever-present swim goals, or my two-year-old niece, or my lack of gutters, or my desire to write, or my grandma, or my addiction to soy lattes, or my increasingly numb hands, or my talking laundry pile, or my obviously neglected blog. You see? Meteor shower.

At any rate, I am pushing forward and finding a path of most meaning for me. What is most remarkable, is that I have no idea what this path actually looks like, nor feels like until actually stepping right on it. Perhaps that is exactly what life should be.

I have always felt it important to neither dwell in the past or future of your journey, but rather the immediate moment. And here in this moment, I cannot be bothered with my empty bank account, nor my desire to swim in London, but rather I need to take care of right now.

There are plenty of things just on the horizon, glowing the color of hope and excitement. These things include a brief sample documentary, new wheelchair caster wheels, getting a story published in the Chicken Soup for the Soul series, planning a swim training session/spring break extravaganza, more sunlight in my days, and working on establishing Team AWE to be everything that I know it could be.

But those things, even though in sight, are still far from this present moment, so I will hold off some on that excitement and focus and my excitement of this day, today.

As a matter of fact, I think it's time to go find that "today's excitement", that path of most meaning for me -- and you should too...

To Feel A Part

So many things have kept my attention these last few days that I, A) haven't had time to share them and, B) don't even know where to begin!

The Paralympic Village is a pretty fascinating place. Hundreds of athletes from all over this continent, all gearing up for the same thing. There is so much pride and strength here. There are flags of each country hung over balconies of appropriate assigned apartments. The US has two assigned apartments that sit adjacent to each other and, even though they are not the tallest nor largest of buildings here, they seem to tower over most.

In the US building next door there is an althlete lounge and clinic, both of which I have been spending a lot of time. In the clinic, my arms have made a new best friend, Brian, who is our Team trainer for this trip. He has been diligent about making sure that my muscles and all surrounding components are up to par leading up to my first race. The Athlete Lounge is a haven of technology in this little village in which I have no cell phone coverage. There in the lounge you can chat it up with friends on the couch will chowing on 'Nilla Wafers, or call home free of charge--thanks to AT&T, catch up on Facebook status updates, or even witness a heated game of poker amongst 4 visually impaired athletes. It's a trip.

We have been traveling to the pool every morning to finish up our taper training. DAY 1 of competition was today; however, I don't swim until Wednesday. We successfully brought home 2 gold medals for tieing an event! The pool is beautiful with subtle reminders of strength and courage hidden within the finely-chiseled walls. The water feels good and it is so awe-inspiring to take a breathe and let your gaze rest somewhere high up in the spectator bleachers.

Last night, we attended Opening Ceremonies where I felt overrun with emotion for this entire experience. My words won't even be able to touch you here. Between surrounding yourself with the cultures and traditions of the other countries; parading into a crowd of thousands cheering, "USA! USA!); being inches away from traditonal Mexican dance and song; and for the first time ever feeling like I had really deserved to be there and really be a part of it all-- it was utterly astounding and brilliant in every sense. I'm just not quite sure how to relay the amount of energy and positivity that came out of being a part of the parade, cheering on Team USA all the while being cheered for as well. There were so many cultural connections that were made among teams-- dancing and photos with the Guatamalans and Brazilians, receiving a Mexican flag during their own procession becoming a part of it all, singing and laughing and cheering with everyone.

Along the same lines, my absolute new obsession for this trip has become the exchange of countries pins--flags and symbols that display cultures and traditions in a little gold-plated pin. It helps to have a swim buddy and roommate that is Latin by birth, and it also helped to have her do your makeup before Opening Ceremonies! As of right now I am currently the proud owner of pins from: Mexico, Brazil, El Salvador, Peru, and Columbia. I'm hoping to hit up the Argentinians and Cubans tomorrow!

That's what I've got for now. Buenas noches amigos.

I Swim Because...

"Why do you swim?" I was asked bluntly the other day.

One would suspect that I had a myriad of colorful answers complete with grandiose hand gestures... but the truth was, I didn't. Perhaps it has become such a part of me that I have trouble recognizing its friendship with me; but whatever the case, I decided that it is probably something very important to answer. So here it is...

I swim because it gives me a sense of my old self.
I swim because I don't have to rely on anything or anyone to do it.
I swim because my legs are free to move any which way they'd like.
I swim because it's the only time I always know what I am doing.
I swim because otherwise it would over take my dreams.
I swim because the dancing water all around me calms my soul.
I swim because I enjoy working my heart out at the wee hours of the morning.
I swim because I have always done it better than any other sport.
I swim because it is the only physical way of projecting my true spirit.
I swim because I owe it to myself to.
I swim because I am too clumsy for land.
I swim because my brain only knows how to breathe in the form of bubbles.
I swim because it's the only way I've ever been able to meditate.
I swim because it reminds me of being 8 years old. 
I swim because the world is silent underwater.
I swim because it makes me feel powerful and full of life.
I swim because I made a promise to myself to try.

In less than two days I part for the biggest swim of my life to date--the ParaPan American Games in Guadalajara, Mexico. Fingers crossed for internet access to document this journey...

A Swim A Day Keeps the Doctor Away

'Tis the season for influenza and rhinitis, for the adenovirus and streptococcus. As the weather begins to sharpen its senses and the light of the day fades faster and faster, those little nasty viruses and bacteria start their ultimate invasions in hopes of finding a cozy human home for the winter.

However intended and sneaky, I have managed to fight off millions of these little bugs attempting to take over my very well-being for the past three weeks or so. They ring my doorbell each morning by causing coughing and congestion almost congruent with my 5AM wake-up call. My routine has now started to include a drop of homeopathic immune boosting extract to settle those crazy germs announcing their invasion, typically as I make my way to my morning workout. By the time I am done with practice, I feel good as new--every single day.

This scenario has been the same just about every morning for the past few weeks or so. So, in putting 2 + 2 together, I started to become a rolling informercial for this immune booster stuff. I sold it to a friend, I convinced my mom, and I excited my sister with the notion of virtual recovery within minutes. This was a miracle product, I was so sure of it! In fact, I never even questioned its actual existence or effectiveness, or even the cause of my immediate, daily recoveries. I just thanked the immune booster and then pushed it in the face of everyone in my path sporting a healthy smile on my face.

It wasn't until this week when both mom and sister regrettably explained that the stomach-turning, bitter immune booster wasn't helping AT ALL! How could this be? They must be doing it wrong, or...

Wait?! Retracing my steps, I realized that the immune booster wasn't the only thing that I was doing on a daily basis-- I was also swimming.

And there it was: Swimming.

Swimming was the thing that was keeping me healthy and relatively bug-free each and every day. Breathing deeply as I stroked, circulating fresh oxygen-rich blood throughout my body, and smiling and enjoying every second of it... those are the things that are keeping me well.

And here it is folks, it isn't found in a bottle and it doesn't cost any money. The secret to my health?? It's rather simple: A swim a day keeps the doctor away, no doubt. 

The Squishy Concrete Thing That Lives Inside of Me

I've been searching for something. This something is more powerful than necessary, more beautiful than disasterous. This something is terribly misunderstood... and it lives inside of me.

Uncovering ones layers can be daunting and terrifying, unleashing monsters swept under beds and skeletal systems hiding among hanging sundresses and neglected dresspants. But in order to move forward to a life that you care to dream about and long for, it is crucial to go straight there. Do not pass "Go!", do not collect $100.

I have known this for quite some time, and not being a complete cloud-dweller, I have known that there are many parts of me that need to surface and be challenged directly in order for me to really be the me that I truly want and can be. It wasn't until very recently that I have even been able to acknowldge; however, the extreme notion that this part of me has played in my life-- often holding me back from my own greatness and keeping my wheels firmly planted in dark, sticky mud.

Through an enormous amount of self-reflection and the courage to try, I have found some things inside of me that I never knew existed. They are sneaky, soft-spoken parts of me that come out without using words and hide beneath every smile. These are the feelings of words that haven't been created yet, which makes them very hard to give them the force and the weight that they really do deserve. These are the feelings that keep me from being me wholly.

These feelings look like a building, like scaffolding. These feelings look like unfinished concrete. These feelings are bold and strong like concrete, yet can be pushed on and tested like jell-o. These feelings dwell deep inside at my core, yet are not a part of my actual body. These feelings cannot move on their own accord. These feelings are dull and gray. These feelings have made home of my soul and have gone completely undetected until just the other day-- when I declared to my heart that I, myself, was strong enough to allow them to surface.

Initially, I was afraid of this squishy, cementy thing and I feared its place in my mind. I was angry and upset for it causing me such pain and sorrow for such a long time. I was relieved when I realized that it didn't have to be this way. I had it wrong all along. I didn't have to find it to destroy it, I know that now. I simply had to find it to embrace it. After all, on some level it has kept me alive for this long-- I suppose it should get some credit for some of it.

So by now, several days have passed. I am just shy of two weeks away from leaving for the ParaPan American Games where I will compete in the most elite event of my life. How am I preparing? By making friends with the squishy concrete thing that lives inside of me. Hmm.

Learn to Love Me More Today

One year ago today I was sitting in a little cafe in San Francisco reveling in my new-found re-love for swimming. 

Munching on a giant walnut sourdough loaf, in quintessential San Fran flare, I remarked to Sar about the meet--my first meet back in the water in over a decade. We laughed about how nervous I was and for what a "big deal, little meet" this was. We joked about my post-taper cravings of Diet Coke and frozen yogurt. We acknowledged having broken four American Records, because previously there had been no such swimmer up to the challenge. We started making memories, not entirely understanding at the time how crucial they were all going to be for my own growth and self-reflection.

That evening, Sar and I met up with an old and dear college friend of mine to celebrate being back in the water. Over a divine balance of drip-droppy sweet, yet titillatingly tangy sangria, the three of us toasted to my accomplishments. I toasted for simply having the guts to try it...

Coming back to Colorado, I landed with a new song in my step and a new groove to my wheel. I had found a bit of confidence that I hadn't previously ever been able to put my finger on long enough to feel. That feeling started everything-- I quickly became and even more devoted 3AM swimmer, creating practices that left an encouraged taste of bile in my mouth. I trained, and trained, and trained. I lifted weights. I practiced yoga and stretching. I bought an ultrasound machine for my screaming muscles. I announced my desire to drop down to a part-time teacher the following year. I went to more swim meets.

And at those swim meets, I continued to gain experience as a competitor. I was gaining so much about myself, not only as a swimmer. I was, for the first time in my life, able to beat down barred up windows to a prior-concealed soul. I was able to uncover a few monsters under my own bed. I began training my insides just as much as my outsides (which I have found to be much harder to accomplish, and far more painful).

In that year, I began to understand that it was about swimming just as much as it wasn't. With every stroke I made, I did so with the greatest of intention and desire to become the most whole, most self-accomplished me I could ever imagine.

It was a long year.

Today, I sit in a little cafe in San Francisco reveling in my ever-growing rebirth for swimming and every uncovered, subtle life lesson in between.


Coming out of my second-ever Santa Clara Disability Meet, I feel much different that the first time around. I feel the weight of my own insecurities and under-bed monsters stronger than ever. But why?, is the real question that I've been gulping down this entire weekend.

In less than a year's time I have accomplished so much. I have broken a total of five American Records, with World Rankings in most of the events that I've swum. I have had the highest honor of becoming a part of the US Team to represent in the ParaPan American Games this coming November. I have done all in my power to spread the meaning behind one's own human effort and giving all that one can to make things real for them. I have joined forces with brilliant women to accomplish the dream of speaking at a TED conference. I have looked at my insecurities with an open heart and made every attempt to make peace with them. I have done a lot.

However, even as I sit here at this smallest cafe on the corner of 18th Street and Dolores, in the Mission District, I cannot help but create dissonant, interfering statements where all of those above periods sit. There isn't anyone else to swim those events. You swam well to get on the US Team, but you can't repeat it. Nobody really understands why you would sacrifice half of your job and most of your money to swim. People see my chair and feel better about themselves without event taking in a single word. You think you deserve this, but really you don't know anything about anything. 


These words, although just a slight example of what those subtle mind-daggers sound like, encapsulate my dream. I know, and I truly do--deep, deep inside of my orangish, circling soul-- that I will NEVER be able to accomplish everything in my heart until I find a way to silence the monsters and demons and naysayers and sheep-wearing wolves in my mind. I have never quite understood why my mind has to be such a bully over my heart, but this is something that I have GOT to take care of before it's over before it begins.

So, for today, I will try to honor my own accomplishments of the past year. I will attempt to raise my own glass (or water bottle) to my own dreams and desires. I will make a promise to myself to take time to find those words that speak to my heart in song, rather than some terrible disconnected cable television.

It is so incredibly embarrassing to know that--without a doubt--that I am the only one responsible for any sort of dissatisfaction in my life. I am the only one holding me back from going under a minute in my 50-backstroke, and I am the only one who is able to fix it.

Well, cheers to me. Bottoms up. Salutations. Congratulations. Salud... I will take this day as the attempted first day of many to pay attention and mind to all of my insecurities and mind-daggers. I promise, I will learn to love me more today.