It’s an odd sensation to feel warm tears run down your cheeks while underwater. I remember the first time it happened to me. The workout was just above my skill level and I was doubting my abilities. My swim coach had set a workout that required me to consistently swim a certain distance at a certain time in order to be done. I don’t remember how fast or how far, but I clearly can see the coach telling me to keep going because I missed the time.
Tired doesn’t really describe what I was feeling. It was that, but it was also emotional and mental. I was the last one in the pool. Everyone else had already headed to the showers. But I was stuck, still swimming.
It’s hard to swim while you are crying. Embarrassment and fatigue really affect one’s thinking. There was a battle going on inside my head while I swam back and forth in that pool. Self-doubt argued against a strong desire to finish the workout and be done.
Thankfully, my determination to become a better swimmer won the day and somehow I found another gear and pushed myself to go just a little faster. It’s interesting now to recognize how that moment (of physical and emotional discomfort) was an ingredient in who I am today.
Principle: Growth starts at the moment you want to give up.
I teach a group on resilience to adolescent boys at the facility where I work. This was the principle we were focused on for the day and I gave them a specific challenge to test their resilience. We were all going to do a plank together. It wasn’t a competition. No comparison to others. The design was to increase awareness.
I told each of them to notice the moment that their mind and body started to tell them that they needed to give up. THAT MOMENT was the one they could start measuring their growth. Everything from there on would be resilience. I didn’t care if that came 10 seconds in or one minute. Just notice when you want to give up.
Several joked that they wanted to give up before they even started (eye roll–such mental resilience). Some boasted about their abilities. We discussed stepping into the discomfort. I did the exercise with them.
At one minute, I was feeling some discomfort. Not giving up discomfort, just the kind that lets me know that my muscles are working a whole lot more than normal. At two minutes, I was really starting to feel it. This is where some of the competition among the boys started to kick in. Despite my counsel not to compare, their competitiveness was pushing them to go much further than they would have on their own.
At three minutes, the last two boys gave up and dropped to the floor. I was impressed with them both. They had each gone much longer than they originally thought they could. However, for me, the three-minute mark was when I noticed that I wanted to give up. That is when I started my “growth timer”. I closed my eyes, ignored the clock, and focused intently on my breathing.
At the four-minute mark, I felt the first hot drop of sweat drip down onto my hands. The boys started encouraging me by pushing me to go longer in 15-second intervals. I just kept focusing on my breathing. My shoulders burned and my core screamed.
At the 5-minute mark, the boys started to whisper words of admiration amongst themselves. They wondered if I was doing some sort of magical mind trick. I just continued to focus on my breath. I wanted to show them an example of resilience to open their minds to greater possibilities.
It was getting much harder to keep my form straight and my lower back was aching. My body was yelling at me to stop, it had had enough. But my mind was firm. Go until you can’t anymore. So I pushed forward as more hot sweat dripped down onto my hands.
At six minutes, my arms started to give out and the pain in my back was intense. A couple of seconds into the minute I dropped to the floor exhausted. My previous best time on a plank was around 3 minutes. I had just doubled that time.
Resilience was the key.
What are you committed to?
I have found that without a purpose, resilience does not develop. Without incremental growth, we don’t tend to believe in ourselves. When we don’t have the experience of pushing through something hard, we tend to default to the path of least resistance.
And that path doesn’t lead to any sort of growth.
Growth happens because of resilience–our ability to persevere through pressure. When we aren’t growing or improving, our self-confidence and drive atrophy. We have to be willing to push past the point of wanting to give up. This is where we discover ourselves–in the resistance.
Having a purpose, or a reason, to persist in the face of discomfort is critical to our resilience. The reason doesn’t have to be big either. Just strong enough to win out over all the other self-talk and pain that vies for your attention.
For me–with the boys–my purpose was to teach and show them resilience so they could see a brighter future for themselves.
In the pool, all those years ago, my purpose for pushing myself was two-fold. First, I wanted to be done with the workout. But that alone wasn’t enough. When I recognized that the discomfort could make me a better swimmer, I found the extra reserves to push a little harder.
Find your purpose–your WHY. It could be improving your mental health. It could be to prove to yourself–or others–that you can do it. Your children might be depending on your strength. You might have a goal or an aspiration. Whatever it is, hold on to it.
When the WHY is strong enough, you’ll figure out HOW. – Bill Walsh