Finding Your "Why"

"Why are you doing this? There are just biking/running events out there, right? Why bother with the swimming if you don't enjoy it?"

This was the question posed to me by a dear friend as I was recounting the terror of my first open water swim during my first triathlon back in June. I'd been explaining that I had been swimming once a week with a small group from my Masters club in a local lake, to get over my irrational fear of swimming in open water, and that I was hating every second of those sessions.

"Then why do it? If it's not fun, just stop!"

Hmmm. Why WAS I doing this to myself? The experience at Mooseman in June was 0.9 miles of pure hell. I hated every second. Every SINGLE second I was miserable and terrified. The subsequent weekly lake swims were not much better. I was still experiencing the overwhelming irrational fear that something deep under the water, something that I couldn't see through the murky darkness, was going to reach up and drag me under. That's not fun, not in the least. Of course I KNEW there wasn't anything evil lurking in the murky darkness, but that didn't matter. When I was out there in the middle of the lake, the terror was real.

I thought about that conversation with John multiple times throughout the summer. Every Friday, in fact, as I was swimming in Mystic Lake, hating every second of it. Why? Why am I doing this? I didn't know at the time, all I knew was that I couldn't quit out of fear. I just couldn't. That was the only answer I could come up with. Just because.

Then one day, one particularly grey, cold, drizzly day, when I was swimming in Mystic Lake, something happened. Something huge. I was swimming, as usual, with my usual internal dialog going on: "This is stupid. Why are you doing this to yourself? You are in great shape, just keep strength training, biking and running, sign up for more 1/2 mary's and start full 'thon training, and that will be just fine. This tri stuff is BS..." This was going through my head, as I was swimming from buoy to buoy that morning, at 5:45am, in the rain. But .... after a while I thought: "Wow. Here I am, in calm and lovely Mystic Lake, at 5:45am, swimming from buoy to buoy without panic (nearly inconceivable a few weeks ago), in the rain. This is kind of cool. Huh. Perhaps this isn't so stupid after all!"

No panic that day. None. Not a bit. While I wasn't loving it, that day it was because I was getting tired easily (swimming a mile straight without stopping is hard work), not because I was worried that I was going to be sucked to the depths of the lake by something evil. I truly had not ONE bit of panic, which honest to goodness, was HUGE. Ever since I was a kid I've hated to be in open water over my head, even though I'm a strong swimmer (a deep pool is no problem - it's the blackness / bottomless pit feeling that freaks me out). I quickly get REALLY REALLY panicked, and simply have to get to a depth where I can stand. This was huge. HUGE!!!!!

That moment I turned a corner. Each lake swim got better and better, and soon I was really and truly ENJOYING those training days. A few weeks later during my next triathlon, I went on to take a full SEVEN MINUTES off my swim split. SEVEN MINUTES. Even better than the time was the fact that I was not in the least bit panicked, and I felt GREAT about my swim effort.

The next month I did it again at Lobsterman in freezing cold Casco Bay, on a very cold, drizzly, miserable day. I even thought as I saw the swim exit approaching that I was disappointed the swim leg wasn't longer, I was doing so well and enjoying it so much. Ha!

The sense of personal pride I felt at the end of the season was overwhelming. I had accomplished something amazing. I looked this demon straight in the face, a demon I've had since childhood, and pretty much beat the crap out of it. How? By gutting it out and NOT QUITTING, for no other reason than "just because."

I had found my "why!" By conquering this fear, I had found my why. It was about not giving up, not giving in, when it would have been SO easy to do so. It was about the sense of pride that one feels when something like that happens - when you rise above what is easy and comfortable to do something hard and uncomfortable - and find yourself on the other side the better for it.

I still need to thank John for that conversation. At the time of it's occurrence, it had messed with my head a bit. I'm not sure I would have realized what I accomplished this summer if I hadn't been thinking for a good part of the summer about "why."

So, thanks John. Thanks for helping me to find my "why." I look forward to our next long chat over dinner. Let's see what else you can help me discover.