In the Blue

The mental struggle is definitely real. It’s been 10 months since I had shoulder surgery on my right shoulder. It’s been 10 months since I’ve actually swam any open water reasonable distance without swim aids… until today! Sunday, May 12th, I swam by first open water 2K without any swim aids (fins, snorkel, neoprene gloves, etc)!

It was really scary, but utterly freeing all at the same time. It felt horrible and slow, but strong and fast at times as well. It was a really weird mix of emotions for a route that I know so well, that seemed brand new all over again. Going down to the Alki Point Lighthouse from the Bathhouse is a route I’ve swam over 1,000 times (at least). I know every part of that stretch of water and land, where my usual golf ball search zone is, where the starfish hang out, where the sargassum pops up, and where the sea pens like to congregate. This time it was all new and I felt very alone, nervous, scared, you name it, I felt it.

Over the past 10 months, and really before that, when I made the decision to stop swimming when I really felt something wrong (and glad I did because the injury and surgery could have been much worse), I’ve had to figure out what was next and how to adapt to not fall into a very bad place mentally. Though trial and error and the support of my entire West Coast swim crew, Seattle to San Diego, I found kicking. I was able to experience all that I loved about swimming through kicking and I was able to kick marathon swim distances and events while healing and unable to swim, capping the 2023 year off with The Great Kick Around Coronado, supported by Open Water Swim Academy.

Then came January 2024, I no longer had a goal and on January 25^th I was cleared by my surgeon to fully resume life. I started swimming a little, but I needed to focus on a huge deliverable for work in March. I couldn’t miss the deadline because I was leaving for the International Ocean Film Tour | Volume 10 in Germany in Austria the day after delivering. The epitome of work hard, play hard, right?! I got back from the tour and tried for real to start swimming again and I just couldn’t. I couldn’t get up in the morning to get to swim, the struggle of the 4:30am wake-up call is real, so I stuck to OWS. But when I got to Alki, I couldn’t take off my gear. I found myself afraid to swim in the ocean without my gear for the first time since I discovered ocean swimming and realizing that was really, really hard.

I had fallen in love with and gotten really good at kicking. Starting over at swimming is really difficult and considering I could kick 16K+ with fins and only swim 500 yards, my fins got me to the places I wanted to go. I was a much faster kicker than swimmer since I hadn’t swim in over a year and it was depressing to say the least. I knew starting over would suck. I knew it would be difficult. I knew it would be slow. What I didn’t know was how much of a mental challenge it really would be. I felt paralyzed taking off my fins. On a route I knew so well that at any point in time I can get out and walk back, I felt like if I didn’t have my fins I would get stuck in a current I couldn’t get out of. I felt like if I didn’t have them, I wouldn’t be able to support my shoulder, and I wouldn’t be able to bilaterally breathe. I felt like without them I would injure myself again, so I wore them knowing that I was cheating myself out of becoming “a regular swimmer” again. I just couldn’t let them go and no matter what I did, I kept making excuses to keep them. I was swimming without them in the pool just fine, but the open water, that was different.

It caused me to be more depressed than I think self admittedly I knew. I felt like an outsider at my own beach with my own crew and I was hurting because I couldn’t swim, or at least I felt like I couldn’t swim, and especially not without my fins. I would go home after a great day with friends, cheery at the beach, and cry on the couch because I had goals and wasn’t doing anything to help myself reach them. I felt like I was missing out on swimming with people even though they were right there. I don’t know, even now thinking about it, I know none of that is true, but my mind made me think it was and in some ways still is. I want to swim long, and I can’t without kicking with my fins. I need to re-learn how to swim again, and I can’t if I keep using my fins. It’s like I was stuck in this paradoxical place I couldn’t get out of. I hated so much about where I was in my head, I knew I had the tools to deal with it, and I couldn’t get myself out of this place. I didn’t expect this so late in the surgery game, after I was healed, and yet here I was and nobody told me this would happen. I wasn’t prepared for it.

That was it, late Saturday night I made the decision to go to Alki without my socks, fins, and snorkel on Sunday. If I didn’t have gear, I couldn’t use it. Kind of a forced cold turkey moment. I got in, waited for everyone to leave on their swim route before I started because I didn’t want anyone to see my try to swim. I did a few strokes breaststroke to the first stairs. Okay, this isn’t terrible. I can do this. I checked in with myself every 200 yards or so and I was genuinely terrified. I stayed super tight to the shore on the way down, so close, I could ripple the pebbles with my fingertips and make shapes in the sand. I was still terrified. I felt like I didn’t know where I was going, stopped to make sure I wasn’t going out to sea, thought I kept seeing things, I was afraid of everything that touched me… seaweed, jellyfish, my own shadow. I don’t know to describe how scared I was and for what? I don’t know, I know this route. I’m an idiot. Just keep swimming and checking in, you’re doing fine. I’m really cold. I think I’m getting hypothermia. This is ridiculous…. I’m fine. Of course I’m not.

Then I saw it, the Lighthouse. My swim beacon for that day and a huge goal. I can’t quite forward sight yet and support it with my shoulder, so I stop to do a quick breaststroke sight check and I’m almost there, 50 yards maybe, I want to see the other side heading towards Constellation. Before I knew it, I was there, I crawled out to shore to sit and think and just teared up… followed shortly after by, if I’m crying I can’t take a good picture of this monumental occasion, so I cut that out quick, I saw a sea lion, and that’s when it came – the biggest smile I think I’ve ever had! My sea lion was there, the sun was shining…. I honestly couldn’t believe I made it under my own power. It took forever, I can’t say my stroke felt good, but I did it!

On the way back, I stopped to chat with every swimmer and I could feel my surgery arm and the muscles working again for the first time. I think it dawned on me at that moment that after I finished with my kicking goal, I was using my fins as a crutch for my arm and shoulder. I wasn’t putting weight on it, using it to support my body and natural swim roll, or using my muscles BECAUSE I relied on my fins and knew I had them. They served their purpose for kicking, but I wanted to swim. With fins, I could take it a bit easy and I thought I needed to when I didn’t. I’m still careful of course, but I can use my arm and use my muscles and use my shoulder. I enjoyed the swim back. I swam further out. I looked at the crabs and sea grass and fish. I swam back a little bit more of me on Sunday.

I wanted to write this blog for a couple reasons, the first being I needed an outlet because my mental state when it comes to swimming has been suffering for the past couple of months, and I’m not used to that. I also wanted to write this because I am sure there are others who have had surgery or illnesses or something they are recovering from and nearly a year later, you are depressed and don’t know why. The lingering effects of a traumatic event are so real and no one told me about this. I didn’t know it could happen. I’m fortunate to have a great support system, but not everyone does. For those that don’t, you’re not alone and it’s really hard to start over again, especially when it involves something you love.

As a part of Mental Health Awareness Month, if you’re struggling, know there are people going through exactly what you are going through and just because you aren’t currently experiencing something traumatic, doesn’t make your experience or your thoughts any less important or meaningful. Self-education and self-awareness helped me get to the Lighthouse on Sunday and I hope everyone in a bad place is able to find their own Lighthouse to get to. If you need help, reach out to friends or family, look at benefits your employer may have available to you, dig into what you love, and make a plan to get back to you. You are valued, you are important, you are and will be loved.

For additional resources, you can reach out to local community health authorities or visit some of the resources below for education, contacts, and mental health toolkits:

Mental Health America: Where to Start – Get Help, Get Information, Get Active

National Alliance on Mental Illness: Mental Health Awareness Month

Substance Abuse and Mental Health Services Administration: 2024 Mental Health Awareness Month Toolkit

988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline: In a mental health crisis? Call or text 988