![]() Sometimes, we let Fear of the Unknown make things much worse than they are. ![]() I finished, got out, and thought, “That was it?” I had been so scared for so long, and thought so hard about it, when I actually experienced the race itself, it was only a fraction of the “scariness” I had expected. Of course, everything turned out just fine. I still remember that anxiety, that dread, that feeling of fear. They wouldn’t let me do any of those things. I remember trying to get my parents to let me back out of the race, scratch out of the meet, and quit the team. I wanted to run and hide under the bleachers. That entire week before the swim meet, I was filled with dread. I was worried: What if something terrible happened? Could I even make it 200 yards? Would I look like an idiot? Would I have to hop out and would everyone laugh at me and would my life be over as I knew it? ![]() Maybe not on the pool deck, but later in the practice or that night in bed. I remember the first time my coach told me I was going to swim the 200 fly. It’s the waiting around the week before swimming the 200 fly for the first time ever that produces anxiety. ![]() Swimming the 200-yard butterfly - for the first time ever - isn’t actually that scary. ![]()
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