One of the biggest challenges in my foray into the sport of triathlon has been dips in confidence, and it’s the strangest things that take their toll.
I’ve mentioned before that I’m a classic introvert. I hate parties, I hate crowds and making small talk is just torture so to join a new triathlon club was a challenge in itself.
This morning I took the easier option for getting to know people at the club by volunteering to shift gear at 4.30 am into the truck and set up for a club race, that way it was dark, so no-one could see me and once the venue was ready, I took off for work, but I did meet some very friendly clubbies.
It was a half-way house attempt to make new friends but I did it.
My confidence was also knocked yesterday at work. Saturday mornings are tough in the pool, four hours of toddlers, a good 50% screaming, whilst the other 50% bring along anxious parents bordering on a screaming fit.
Yesterday’s lessons culminated in a very tall, well-built dad informing me his child was nervous and that she couldn’t swim, (no shit Sherlock, it’s a learn to swim class, but I held back), all in front of said ‘not so nervous’ child.
So many parents arrive at the poolside and launch into a diatribe about their child’s mental state – more often than not, it’s their anxiety that they are expressing which in turn becomes the child’s.
Yesterday’s anxious dad not only sat as close to the pool as he could but then promptly jumped in fully clothed to ‘rescue’ his child who slipped off the platform, pretty much into my arms. He scared me, he scared the kids, teachers and parents, and he knocked my confidence.
So when I dropped a pole this morning at 4.30 am onto the concrete in the affluent suburb of Balmoral and was asked to consider the neighbours, the wave of self-doubt that started when that dad jumped into the pool, continued to grow.
Self-doubt and a dip in confidence don’t always happen because something big goes wrong, it’s so often a little flurry of tiny things.
This morning I’m a little bit scared – scared I didn’t do my job well yesterday and the same might happen today, fearful that the clubbies I met might think I’m odd or inconsiderate because I had to scoot off or because I didn’t think first about the neighbours, just tiny doubts that make going to work today tough.
And even when it comes to what training is on the schedule for today, I’m doubting my abilities. I’d had a good week so far, missed a sea swim because of poor water quality yesterday, but now wondering if I should have toughed it out and gone, missed a short bike because I wanted to get the area under the house water-tight for future training sessions. Today I’m supposed to bike and run but that voice of doubt is chattering away, “What’s the point, who are you fooling?”
Jan rang yesterday afternoon and wanted a chat and even that phone call had me worrying – What’s she going to say? Is she disappointed in what I’m doing?
I realise I’m doing the very thing I tell parents not to do when they obviously have a child with an issue around swimming and that’s reinforcing the negativity of the situation.
So, where do I begin to fix it?
One of the clubbies I met this morning is racing Port Macquarie 70.3 and there’s a large, infamous hill on the bike course. She told me she’d heard lots about it, all conflicting and I guess the advice I gave her is where I start today, “You can ride that hill, you can walk that hill, but either way if you want to finish the race you have to go up it.”
I was listening to a recent BBC Desert Island Discs with former England footballer Ian Wright. In a very emotional podcast, he talked about his tough childhood how he felt unloved until the teacher he feared most at school took him under his wing. Ian said, the love the man showed him wasn’t one of ease, but one that gave him a sense of belonging and responsibility, he said he never let him get away with anything, it truly was tough love.
And whilst Ian admitted that over his lifetime as a professional footballer he did become a bit of a primadonna, he doesn’t regret the mistakes he made because it’s made him the kind of man he is now – a good man, a caring loving one.
Ín my attempt to be the best swim teacher I can be, some parents may see me as tough and uncaring, but like that teacher, Ian feared I do care, possibly too much and in caring make myself vulnerable to criticism.
So like the clubbie fearing the Port Mac infamous hill climb, I’m off to sort out my head, climb my metaphorical hill and move on from the self-doubt.
And for anyone interested this week’s training looks like this squashed in between work and time to chill.
Monday – bike 4hrs, 30min run off the bike – NO WORK
Tuesday – 75min run and weights session – 8.45-11.30 and 3.15-7.00 WORK
Wednesday – 3km swim – 3.15-7.30 WORK
Thursday – 4hour bike ride, 30min run off the bike – NO WORK
Friday – weights and 2km swim – 8.15-12 WORK and 3.15-6.45 WORK
Saturday – 5km run and open water swim – 7.45-12.30 WORK
Sunday – 1hr WT session – 7.45-12.30 WORK and on standby for TRT World Live crosses for NSW Bushfire memorial service.