Accepting Awards

For whatever reason, I feel like I am now just getting the chance to reflect on some rather cool happenings in my life. Better late than not at all, I suppose?

Being honored with an award has always been (I hate to admit it) quite an excruciating experience for me. I much prefer the wallflower status that felt most comfortable for me as a child. The limelight or spotlight or any descriptive light is a very challenging place for me to be, yet I feel that--in order to pursue those things that are so important in my brain-- I must just get over it.

I was honored at the Sportswoman of the Year banquet, for the second year in a row! It was such a wonderful evening being surrounded by such like-minded and fierce women, that one couldn't help but to leave inspired... yet feeling a little short in stature. My dad was continually commenting on the "size of those girls". 

One thing that DID surprise me, however; was the fact that I finally realized that I really wanted everyone to know just what I had accomplished... and that it actually mattered to me. For the past year and a half, I have struggled with my modesty, particularly because it has never seemed to help me come race day. Now being the grown version of that wallflower child, embarrassment seems to set in when things are mentioned such as accolades or awards or achievements, or any of those "a-sort of" words. 

Yet, the realization was set in when receiving my award, mid-shake, and overhearing, "she has managed to set 3 American records..."

"I have 9 or 10!" I exclaimed (luckily) in my head. Starting to pay more attention to what was said, I wondered, "Where is the stuff about the Pan Am Games?"

Apparently, I must care... and apparently, I must be pretty proud.

Better late than not at all, right??

Time to Break the Break

When I decided to take a small break from the water, I didn't really anticipate the feelings that would follow. Longing, unease, restlessness... I feel like I'm in the middle of a very torrid and prolonged break-up of sorts.

It's terrible.

I feel a constant sting in my gut, as if I am about to take off on a plane and have left all of my luggage at home. A part of me has been lost and the posters that I've nailed on street signs haven't aided a recovery in the slightest.

I am on day 3 of a supposed 4-day break. It has been over a year and a half since I have taken a break from swimming this long (that is if you don't count the forced 4 days that I had to recover from a minor surgery last year). I know as an athlete and as a coach that bodies need time to recover and recuperate from time to time. I know that I have been fighting sneaky viruses that have made their homes in my larynx, sinuses, and nose over the last two weeks. I know that my body is not as resilient as it used to be.

With all of that said, I'm jumping back in first thing in the morning. Three days is three days enough. I am still feeling the rumble of a (self-)shocking meet performance just over a week ago. After having been sick and lethargic for a few days, I hopped into the pool and swam 8 events in three sessions, coming within a second or two of all of my best times... and even re-breaking my favorite event American Record by over 14 seconds!

I'm on a good track, and I know this precisely because of my swim break. My life doesn't feel complete without swimming in it. So, the only thing to do is to get right back in and keep striving for my own greatest potential--my own human effort, with a smile and any grace that this clutzy girl on wheels can muster.

Whispers in the Wind

There's a whisper in the wind. There's always a whisper in the wind, but it's up to each of us to chose to listen to it.

Lately there has been a lot of wind. Whistling, swirling, lingering, and trying to tell me something.

It is no secret that my confidence, particularly in my swimming, has remained to be one of the most weighing and troubling parts of this journey. However, the wind has called my name and has reminded me of most of those things that I am unwilling to accept from others, and by no means able to produce myself.

Swirls and calls of those things that I have accomplished, yet neglected to see: being selected as an example of a Paralympic swimmer at a sport demo event in Boulder, being named Colorado Sportswoman of the Year for Paralympics this year, and receiving a few recent donations from strangers that, too, would tell me those same things that I am only willing to hear from the nonchalance of the wind.

On some level, I have come so far in this journey; yet still so far away from seeing an end in sight.

This weekend I will drive down to the Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs to compete in my last swim competition before the Paralympic Trials in June. I recognized, for the first time today as I was packing that this could very well be the last time I will ever have the opportunity to compete in this prestigious athletic facility-- and, in some part, this own exotic world of Paralympic swimming.

I haven't made a plan beyond the Paralympic Trials. I have done so, or not done so, quite intentionally. I haven't wanted to look into that future just yet-- I'd rather enjoy the anticipation of today. However, when my own monologue realized that this may be the end, I just breathed into the wind and let it finally know that I have been listening, and that I'm not ready to be done just yet.

That Quiet Underneath

When I am swimming and underwater, it is so much like being somewhere else. There are so few sounds, no voices, little distraction... just me and that quiet underneath.

Underwater there aren't things like bills to pay or mortgages to fret about.
There are no fears of not making it.
Worries of disappearing eyebrows (thanks to that very chlorine wonderland, no doubt) diminish into rising bubbles.

Underwater there isn't a time to say the wrong thing.
There are no students failing, nor struggling to be something more than just a student.
Words like "can't" or "won't" don't exist under the surface of the water.

Underwater there aren't rejection letters for grant proposals, or sponsorships, or manuscript queries.
There isn't any piling laundry.
Facebook, Twitter, and email cannot possibly thrive at such depths.

Underwater there is no miscommunication between friends.
There aren't any wheelchairs.
Juggling multiple lives within the same body just isn't a necessary part of floating among the blueish tiles.

Underwater there is no need for shoveling snow, twelve times over.
There are no restrictions to one's movement or mobility.
Imaginations swim widely underneath the surface of the water.

Underwater there aren't any due dates or deadlines.
There are no crowds that look straight beyond the individual.
Insensitivity, ignorance, and selfishness definitely don't know how to swim.

Yet, all of these things DO exist beyond the water's surface; but being able to escape them for moments at a time make it that much easier to approach them once I am through with that quiet underneath.

Just as I tend to escape and swim straight from many, very real, aspects of my life there are also ones that I wish that I could take with me on my underwater journey, as well as ones that I know I miss out on while swirling around tiles and blowing bubbles.

I think what is really important is that I have that underwater haven to retreat to, reflect on, and then rise from. Without it, I wouldn't know how to react to many parts of my life-- as well as find what's truly important. I have found that those things that I long to be with me underwater are the very things that matter most in my life; and those things that I dare to escape from, are really not so hard once I reemerge.

Canon Documentary from the Wonderful Sharon Levy Freed

"Now Look at You!"

The other day, one of my co-workers swung around in her swivel chair in the midst of a bunch of typical, hushed morning planning period and recalled, "I can remember a few years ago, when you said to me in a conversation that you were getting older and hadn't accomplished anything yet. How funny is that?! Now look at you!"

I turned to her, smiled a half-lipped smile as if I were really afraid of showing my fondness for her intention, turned back to my computer screen, and proceeded to type out my lesson on protein synthesis for the day.

Although that slight conversation that morning in my office resonated deep within me, it hasn't been until now that I have fully let myself recognize the meaning behind it all. Several swim sessions later, both pondering those words and breathing in the bubbles of that complement, I realized that she was completely right.

I know that I refer to it a lot, but I know that I am on the right path because of the subtle, and sometimes not-so-subtle, gifts that the Universe has sent down to guide and encourage me. Not only have I fulfilled a dream of swimming for my country this year (and sometimes more importantly received the swim cap to prove it), but I have also been able to be a third-portion of a beautiful group of women striving to make a very intentional impact on this world.

Beyond that, in the last week alone I have had a training short-documentary created to display my personal swim story, as well as the awesome camera that was used to make it. The madness continues even! Today, I became the proud new owner of ten fresh copies of a "Chicken Soup for the Soul" book that I was lucky enough to be published in. I actually hugged the book when I saw it.

This world is a crazy, wonderful thing if you just let it be. Dare to make a statement about what you have or have not yet accomplished in life and the Universe will find a way to challenge it... trust me.

Talking About Swimming...

One of the most fantastic things about life is when a phone call, or even an email, can completely change everything in your current outlook. I've been blessed enough to experience this concept several times in my life so far; and I can tell you, that it is an amazing reminder of what it feels and means to be alive.

My call/email? It was from an educator from Canon USA. She completely stumped me (even in writing) as she eloquently proposed a short documentary creation solely about me! Explaining that a photograph that was taken of me for Colorado View Magazine early last year was the only indicator that I would be the perfect subject in this short, mini film.

Over the course of the last few days, I have been interviewed and videotaped both swimming and working out in my adapted gym. The interview was easy and, dare I say, fun. The woman heading up the project is a dream to work with: so expressive, quite energetic, and definitely encouraging. I was able to share the parts of myself that I am most proud of and the reasons and steps that I've taken to get there.

Something that I have realized over the last year or so of my journey is that I absolutely love to talk about swimming. When I am fortunate enough to talk about swimming my heart races, sugarplums dance in my head, and puppy-dog tails come flowing out of my mouth. I'm pretty sure my eyes sparkle too.

Today was the in-water shoot, and due to the unpredictability and immense spectrum of Colorado weather, I was able to swim outside! It was a magical workout, although I felt completely responsible for making perfect strokes every single time and now have a glimpse of the great stress it must be to be one of those great swim folks who swim for instructional videos.

What I learn from all of this? I learn every single day that if you do what you love, it shows, and good things happen. 

Not only will I be able to share an undoubted beautiful mini-documentary of this journey, but I was also incredibly surprised by a supportive and generous donation from Canon as well! Do it-- do what you love.