But I Can't Even ....

By Jaime Willis

"Don't fear failure so much that you refuse to try new things. The saddest summary of a life contains three descriptions: could have, might have, and should have."

The other day, I was talking to my mom on the phone.  She reads our blog everyday and has been following along as we announced our intention to complete a triathlon.  

In contrast to her daughter, who is never happier than when she is speaking in front of an audience - the larger the better - my mom prides herself on being a professional audience member.  As she says, there can be no performance without an audience.  Although she shuns the spotlight, she has never been anything but supportive as my brother and I have launched ourselves out of the nest and into the world.  

But I know that this support has cost her no small amount of stomach lining and gray hairs in motherly concern.

Mom starts out this conversation cautiously, "So, I read on your blog that you are training for a triathlon?  That's in addition to the 10K's you are running?" 

There - the first touch of nervousness creeps in.  Let me note for the record that this is NOT skepticism on my mother's part, it is genuine concern.  She knows that I generally finish what I set out to do, but worries nonetheless.

"Yes, mom.  We start training in just over a month, but I am already pre-training now" I tell her, waiting for the shoe to drop.

"So a triathlon - that's running, biking, and swimming?" she asks.

"Yes, all of that.  It's a 5 kilometer run -- 3.1 miles," I translate, "a 16.5 mile bike ride, and a 750 meter swim - about a half mile," I finish.

"A half mile of swimming?  In a pool?" she asks, hopefully.

"No, this triathlon is an open-water swim -- we'll do the whole swim in a lake in Virginia," I say.

"Oh," she says, thinking a bit more before continuing, "How deep is the lake?"

"Mom, I don't know - it's a lake - it's lake-depth," I say, knowing that my answer is neither helpful nor consoling.

"Well, Jaime," she says, asserting her motherly instinct, "is it safe?"

Ah, there it is - my mother has chosen a worry for my triathlon - that I will drown trying to complete the swim.  I explain that the race has lots of folks watching the water to help those who find themselves in trouble.  I further explain that we'll be lined up to go into the water by our estimated finish time, so not everyone will enter the water at the exact same time.  Finally, I promise to be safe and not drown on race day.  

Although my mother is somewhat soothed by my answers, I hang up the phone knowing that if there were a way for her to require the race to be swum in a lake under 5" in depth, she would do it.  That's the mom in her.  

To be truthful, I am most concerned about the swim as well, although not because I think I'll drown.  I've run before, I've biked plenty, but I've never swam competitively, or really, otherwise, since I was in grade school.  I can swim, but I can't swim well.

Matt shared an anecdote from his grandmother that fits so well here, I'm stealing it to share with y'all.  "You know what can't means?," his grandmother asks.  "Can't stands for can try." 

Right now, I can't swim competitively.  But I have over four months to learn.  And, I definitely can try! I know that I will be able to finish the swimming portion of the triathlon - maybe not quickly, maybe not with pretty strokes, but finish nonetheless.

I may also be the first one who finishes a triathlon wearing a life vest, if only to assuage my mom's fears.