As some of you are already well aware, I am one of the most injury prone individuals EVER.

You’d think that in a ZERO contact sport like swimming, I’d manage to keep myself relatively intact.  However, the Laurin Weisenthal Injury Directory dates back to 1994, when at the age of 10 I  managed to give myself tendonitis in both ankles after over-training breastroke.  Showing up at school in 4th grade with dual air casts:  not so fun.

Some of my more impressive assaults on my body include:

• 

  Scraping away the damage during one of my surgeries

  Rotator cuff tear (left shoulder) – surgery, out for 1 year

• Stress fracture in lumbar spine, out for 3 months
• Fractured rib, out for 2 months (okay, that wasn’t caused by swimming, but by falling down some stairs while doing laundry in college)
• Rotator cuff damage (right shoulder) – surgery, out for 6 months
• 3 torn ligaments, right ankle – out for 6 months

Pretty much every two years, it seems, I manage to injure something, requiring a moratorium on whatever activity induced said injury.  However!  I’m still doing this sport 20 years after I started, so I do manage to recover and bounce back.

At the end of December/beginning of January, I did it again, developing tendonitis in my biceps tendon.  Only this time, I decided to be relatively smart about it:  instead of pushing through the pain until I couldn’t move my arms anymore, I opted to take the month of January off from any kind of swimming.

I know, novel concept, right?

As such, this month has been a lot of running, strengthening, and cross-training.  And finally busting out those Therabands and doing the PT everyone has been telling me I should do (wisdom, it comes with age).

I’ve been feeling better every day, and I can’t wait to get back in the water!  Given my history, I’ll be back before ya know it ☺

“Overcoming the impossible transforms us into who we really are.”

Standing on a cliff in Half Moon Bay yesterday afternoon, watching the waves crash against the craggy shore, I decided perhaps this would not be the best place to head out for a swim.  Unlike the relatively predictable waters of Aquatic Park, this stretch of coastline housed dangerous rock formations concealed beneath the turbulent white wash.  Disappointed, I let my mind wander as I took in the beauty of the unbounded sea.  It’s only been a month, really, but already training for the Channel has led me to not only test the outer limits of my comfort zone, but to completely redefine them.

When I first discovered the Dolphin Club, my open water experiences fit into a neatly predictable little box.  The swims I did were less than an hour in duration, in water over 60 degrees, under reasonably good weather conditions, during the day, with lots of pilots present, joined by tons of other swimmers, in the middle of the summer.

Here I am now, regularly taking off by myself into the great blue yonder, in water that never reaches 60 degrees, in the rain, when it’s dark, whether there are people around or just a floating flock of seagulls, winter approaching, disappointed when I have get out before an hour has passed.  That little box of mine has officially been shattered.

I’m not gonna lie, I’ve been completely freaked out every time I tested my boundaries.  I was nervous when I first swam in 58 degree water for more than 30 minutes, I was terrified to the point of all-out sprinting when I first went around the cove alone, I was frightened when I swam in the dark, and when I swam in the rain under a stormy November sky, I nearly panicked at first.  Before deciding to swim the Channel, I’d never have attempted any of these things – after all, why should I go do something that instinctively threatens my well-being?

Drifting through these thoughts, I realized yesterday why people set goals that seem completely insane to 99.9% of the general public.  I understand now why people climb mountains, run 100 mile ultra-marathons, surf the biggest breaks they can find, and row across oceans.   It’s because when you truly challenge yourself, when you attempt to do something you didn’t think possible until you actually tried, you discover a part of yourself you never suspected could be there.  I forced myself to do things that frightened me because I HAD to.  Each time a fear crept up on me, I remembered that while swimming the Channel, I will be alone, in very cold water, for a very long time, sometimes in the dark, in weather that I can’t predict, with no one there to rely on but myself and my ability to endure.  If I don’t face these fears, and many others I still have, fast, and get over them even faster, I’m doomed before I even begin.  So I’ve been doing things I would never have done.

Through this process, I’m discovering a part of me I’ve never before seen.  There’s a courage, a toughness, and a sense of daring I never credited myself with.  Each time I told myself to shut up and swim, I found that I either actually enjoyed whatever had seemed so scary, or that I was strong enough to handle it.  In one month, I’ve taken on an entirely new perspective, and I feel such personal gratification each time I check another of my fears off the list.

On September 20th, I laughed at the prospect and flat out stated I’d never be able to swim across the English Channel.

On September 27, I decided to go for it anyway.

Rock on.