Run, Dance, Climb…Swim?

“Do one thing everyday that scares you.” -Eleanor Roosevelt

Yes, learn to accept fear as a part of courage.  Choose something that scares the living daylights out of you!  Understand that Fear will also be in attendance, but Courage is the speaker, the leader, the driving force to reach your victory.yeronga-park-swimming-squads

When I decided to become a runner, it was out of fear.  I was told as a child that I had weak lungs and a weak heart.  I fainted easily and often.  “You can’t do that Jen, you’ll get hurt.  You’ll pass out.  Your lungs can’t take it.”  So I made the choice to overcome those labels and rose to the challenge of becoming a runner.  Strong body, strong heart, right? My heart became strong and healthy.  I was on my way!

Everything you ever wanted is on the other side of fear. So David, let’s take down another Goliath, shall we?   Let me set the scene for you, which took place about 25 years ago or so…

There she is.  The short, little Junior High girl, during coed swim class, who is still fighting her way through the shallow end. She is holding onto the side of the pool, blowing bubbles and breathing.  She is practicing the kick board drill for the umpteenth time.    There is she, trying to do the crawl stroke and failing the test over and over.  She watches all throughout the swim unit, as each of her friends and classmates moves over into the deep end. Not her.  Diving test, yes.  Dance had given her great form for that.   Dead man’s float, yes. She could do that all day!  Swim the length of a pool.  No.  Failed. Failed again and again.  Junior High, a time in your life when you so desperately want to fit in.  What does this do to a young teenage girl’s self-esteem?  Sends it plummeting to ground. (It was bad enough, she had braces, freckles, glasses and “perm gone wrong” for hair)

So David…about that Goliath?  This now, 40 year old woman was ready to annihilate him!

And my next mountain to climb was just that.  I was determined to become a swimmer. Obviously a crucial component if you register for a triathlon.  Which I did.  Back in December.  Before I even took a swim class.  Goliath was staring me down and I was coming for him!

However, swimming is truly a humbling sport. I thought it would be an intelligent idea to get into the pool a few times before my beginner swim class began.  My first experience in the pool was anything but glamorous!  I had my 14 year old daughter’s swim cap on (from when she was in 4th grade!) which was ridiculously too small and squeezing my head like a lemon.  I’ve never worn goggles in my entire life. Being a contact wearer, I have been basically swimming in darkness with my eyes closed for 25 years.  Completely embarrassed, I had to ask the lifeguard to help me learn how to use them!  What a site! (I’m literally laughing as I type this!)IMG_9798

After all of that, I finally get in the pool. How hard could it be?  Hard! Terribly hard! Humbly hard.   The side stroke and back stroke were all I could muster to keep from sinking.   After each lap, I was huffing and puffing with exhaustion, like I had just run a half marathon!   Avid swimmers were practicing fluidly and effortlessly on either side of me.  The harder I tried to swim “like a swimmer,” the worse I felt. Who was I kidding??  There was no way I was going to be able to do this!

But then I remembered, Goliath wasn’t taken out by a fierce storm, or annihilated with force and brute strength.  David’s method was just a simple sling shot.  A sling shot used on Goliath’s weakest spot.  All I needed was my own sling shot.  Continue reading “Run, Dance, Climb…Swim?”

What You Think, You Become…

What You Think, You Become…

said Buddha…and I had become my worst version.  Looking in the mirror, I no longer recognized the woman staring back at me.The battle with the demons in my head were winning, again and again. It is not a pretty story…the fall of oneself.  The endless moments on the bathroom floor, wondering if I would ever rise again. So consumed with the darkness of the past, I couldn’t see a way out. “Who are you?” I yelled in my mind.  WHO are you?? I didn’t have a clue.  However…sometimes, if I laid there long enough, quiet enough, still enough, I could hear her. The young girl, the courageous young girl who survived her childhood.  The brave adolescent girl on the stage.  I could hear her…whispering, “Get up Jenny…you are love. You are light. Get up…” And I would. One more time.  But how long could I continue this way?  I couldn’t.  I had a responsibility to my children, my job, my family.  There were people who loved me that were depending on me, whether I believed I deserved it or not.  I looked long and hard at myself in the mirror that day.  The woman who was emotionally and spiritually bankrupted staring back at me. I gazed back at her in silence for a long time. Silence is a funny thing, the more silent you are, the more you can hear. And the harder and longer I silently gazed into the mirror, the stronger the voice within became.  I was not going to succumb to my worst nightmare. The fighter, the survivor, the little girl whispering, “Get up Jenny” was in the pit of my being, locked up tight…and she was fighting to get the hell out.

She sat, staring at a blank piece of paper.  The late 30-something year old woman.  Fear.  Fear is at the center of everything dark.   So she wrote…wrote every single thing she was afraid of.  She gave each Fear a name.  Everything she couldn’t control, she couldn’t do, she couldn’t remedy, everything “she couldn’t” was Fear.  Fear told her she wasn’t smart enough, pretty enough, thin enough, happy enough, liked enough, strong enough.  Take a seat, Fear instructed.  Lies…the lies that speak through fear.  You’re too emotional. Too much to handle.  Too sensitive. You laugh too loud.  You’ll never make it on your own.  Fear fought hard in her mind and seeped into her soul.  Sit down, Fear said.  The brave little girl, deep inside, decided to fight. Fight back, finally.  It was time…

for a new pair of shoes.  Running shoes.  The irony of this decision was overwhelming.  People in my life actually laughed at the idea. And they were right…at the time.  A runner I was not.  I had “run” a few 5K’s here and there.  And by run, I mean jog…jog slowly…walk.  I mean I basically walked them.  People were walking faster than I ran.  I signed up for those events basically to hang out with my friends.

What you think, you become. I was defeated before I even began…I wasn’t a runner.  The girl in middle school and high school who had to walk the mile in PE class, that was me. A dancer, yes.  A runner, not even close.  And at this point in my life, I wasn’t even a dancer anymore.  The vicious lies the demons spoke through me challenged my self-worth, my self-respect, my “greatness.”  You are nothing but weak, they would taunt. You don’t have what it takes, they would chide.  Why bother, you won’t reach victory, they would persuade.

       What you think, you become. Continue reading “What You Think, You Become…”