Last Tuesday, I finally got back in the pool after several months of avoiding it.  I was pleasantly surprised that it wasn’t the epic fail that I expected it to be.  It was actually, dare I say, quite pleasant.  I jumped in thinking I was back at square 1, where I started a year ago, the first time I walked onto the deck of the Crestview Middle School pool and talked to Andy Ripp.  As he prepared to evaluate my stroke that day, I was utterly embarrassed at how ridiculous I was sure I looked.  But last Tuesday, as I slipped into the water and began a slow warm up, I repeated the things to myself that Andy had told me that very first day in the water: Head down, elbows up, fingertips pointed toward the bottom of the pool and most importantly, RELAX.  I glided through the water, nice and easy (read: slow).  Ok, I can do this.  I haven’t forgotten how.  Even the bilateral breathing felt as natural as ever.  And my new goggles that I bought in Arizona, per the suggestion of Ron Trapper, were a huge success.

After a few hundred meters, I caught a glimpse of Andy walking along the side of the pool watching me.  I had sent him an email that morning to let him know I was planning to be there so that he didn’t die of complete shock upon seeing me again.  At the end of that length, I stopped and he nodded, smiling.  “How do you feel?” he asked.

“Surprisingly okay,” I responded.

“You look good.  You look relaxed.  You haven’t lost any technique.”

I was relieved.  We talked for a minute about technique, about the Racine half Ironman that I completed in July and various events that I am signed up for this year, including Ironman Arizona.  Andy suggested that I let my lead hand hang out in front a split second longer.  And then I went back to it.  I managed about 1500 meters in the time I had left.  I mixed in some back stroke here and there just to change muscle groups, but I felt good about my freestyle efforts.  Slow and steady is still a victory.

So when today was coming around, I had my bag packed with my swim gear and I was feeling ready.  I was feeling good.  But just after 7 am this morning, came the text message that has become all too familiar this winter.  “School Cancelled.”  Ugh.  If school is cancelled, that means swimming is cancelled.  Of course, even if it wasn’t, I don’t know what I’d do with my kids during that time anyway.

So, today became a bike on the trainer at home day while the kids watched episodes of Jessie and Good Luck Charlie on the Disney Channel.  Swimming might just have to wait til next week since I have other things planned during the rest of this week’s practice times.  But sometimes that’s the way life goes.  You have to roll with the punches.  You have to re-evaluate.  You have set backs…

Today I faced another setback.  Or seemingly so anyway.  I am coming to terms with the fact that there are still people and situations in this world that scare me. That’s right, the adrenaline junkie tough chick gets scared sometimes.  At one point this afternoon, I stood in my room staring at the Wall of Lindsey that holds all my medals and plaques and the picture of the boat that MSU Women’s Crew named the Lindsey J.  And it occurred to me that while I seek to prove how strong I am through all of these different activities, I am really masking the bigger issues.  I am scared.  Scared of being perceived as weak.  Scared of allowing people the chance to hurt me.  Scared of letting anyone to use my vulnerabilities against me ever again.

So, where does that leave me?  Does that mean I’ve lost all the progress that I thought I had made?  No, I don’t think it does.  Just like swimming, it may have been a while since I had been in the pool, I may have put things on hold temporarily, but I didn’t forget everything I’ve learned.  I just have to think about it a little more closely while I deal with the issues in front of me.  Again, slow and steady is still a victory.

In my last post, I made reference to how my dad and I would say, “It hurts good.” And just like running, when it hurts good, you know you’ve pushed yourself and you’ve grown; emotionally speaking we could say the same.  When we face our fears and the things that hold us back, they hurt but confronting them is good for us.  And that isn’t necessarily a setback, it’s a chance to see how far we’ve come even though there is still work to do.  This doesn’t negate the progress that has been made.

Sometimes I think about why I do the marathons and other endurance events that I do.  Yeah, I love that stuff.  I love the work that goes into training for it.  I love the time with my friends.  I love the travel and the experience of it.  I love the sense of accomplishment I feel when I cross the finish line sweaty and exhausted.  I love the way I smile as I hobble around for a day or two afterward.

But no marathon or Ironman or any other race will ever take the place of facing the things that truly scare me.  It’s easy to see how people become addicted to alcohol or food or drugs, all things used to cover over the real problem.  But even racing has the potential to become an unhealthy obsession if I am only using it to try to fill a void.

I want to earn the title Ironman this year.  In November I will have the chance to physically prove it.  But in the months leading up to that, I still have some things to face in order to call myself an all around Ironwoman.  This isn’t a setback so much as it is a temporary pause to re-evaluate how far I’ve come and where I still need to go from here.  Slow and steady is still a victory.

Kelly, Adrianne, RRG, Frenchy, Farrell and Ron…getting ready to take on IMAZ 2014

I’ve been saying all along, Ironman Arizona is just a platform for me to figure out how to tell my story.  There is a lot more to my story than most people know, but somehow I will figure out how to tell it, as hard as it may be.  I invite you to stick around to make the journey with me.