I went to the Connecticut Valley Invitational Swim Meet at UVAC to watch my daughter compete. I don’t know if you’ve ever gone to one of these things, but they are quite serious. These young swimmers wait for their turn to get on ‘the block.’ Then, once the horn sounds, they thrust themselves into the pool, gasping for air between strokes, hearing nothing but the angry water and the loud cheers of a crowd that echoes throughout the small space every time their ears come out of the water. You can feel the enormous pressure the kids put on themselves to make Regionals. To beat their best times in an event. To improve.
After I watched my daughter compete, I hustled my butt down to find a table in the concession area where I could camp out until she exited the lower pool area, so I could hear how she felt about the race. She had just finished the hundred-meter crawl (freestyle, I say, but Sarah corrects me and lets me know freestyle is not a stroke ????). As I waited for Sarah, I saw another father waiting for his kid. His girl came out first. It was all over her face that this wasn’t a good race for her (I’ve seen this look before with my own child). She tried to keep a stiff upper lip. Told her father, with a very tight hold on her emotions, that it was fine. She held it together, trying to convince herself she didn’t care. Her father waited patiently, putting a towel around her.
Then it came. She cried. She cried hard. She went right into the ‘pocket’ of her father’s arms and just allowed herself to be upset. I couldn’t help but to feel the sadness of both her and her father. The sadness came first, quickly followed by severe fear and anger that she was not getting better even though she was doing everything right (her practices, her strokes, etc.). Her father just held her. Listened. He didn’t try to offer other ways or suggestions for her to feel better, but instead allowed space for her to have her feelings.
Once she had let her emotions run through her and things had settled a bit, her father said something I couldn’t hear, but she gave a couple giggles. She handed him her towel, and he pulled her closer and whispered something in her ear. She snorted, just laughing harder. Something came over the intercom. She quickly looked out over at the meet numbers, and told her dad she had to get on deck. She gave her him a quick kiss and headed back in to the pool to wait for her next turn on the block.
After all that disappointment, sadness, and anger, she was going back in. Her emotions were what they were, and, although, I imagine there were feelings of excitement and nervousness for the next race, she was heading in. The race could end with the same difficult emotions. She could also end up with joy and self-confidence. The fact is, it wasn’t the thing. She wanted to swim, and the unknown or uncertainty of how she would feel before, during, or after, wasn’t governing her choice to go back out and give her best in the sport she loved.
When speaking at my workshops on emotional awareness and resilience, I always begin by telling kids that they cannot ‘be’ angry, sad, happy, etc. That, although we all have emotions — feel our emotions – our emotions are not who we are. They are feelings. Wonderful information-gathering systems in our bodies that give us information to help us make decisions for ourselves. They are not designed to make our decisions for us. That is our job as creators of our own Realities.
My daughter finally came out to tell me about her race. It was a good one, so her excitement and joy was palpable. I was glad. I’ve seen her emotional ups and downs, and have always been humbled by her resolve, amazing self-talk, and ability to get herself on the block after a difficult race. As we talked about her race, I did my job as a swim dad, and put her towel around her, staring at her a bit awestruck.
Sarah (half laughing) – What is it?
Me – You girls are fearless!
I know we’ve all witnessed in our children (and ourselves) these emotional ups and downs. Please feel free to share what has helped you move through your emotions, and find your inner resolve to fearlessly get back up on your ‘block.’
