The “path” (if it can be called that!) I’ve followed to my current location has featured enough twists and turns to baffle a GPS system. Rather than bore you with the details, let’s hit the highlights of how I wound up where I am:

Late 70’s: Cheerleader at a tiny high school in rural Montana
Early 80’s: Aerobics instructor (complete with thong leotard and leg warmers) at an up-scale health club in Honolulu, HI.
Late 80’s: Single mom of two young kids, no other exercise necessary
Early 90’s: Recreational swimmer, health nut and wanna-be triathlete
Late 90’s: Sprint tri-athlete and beginner distance cyclist (completed my first Bike Across Kansas on a 20-year-old, ten-speed bike, the frame of which I later learned was two inches too big for me)
Early 2001: Professional personal trainer (employing nagging skills honed as a single mom)
June 2004: Launched Total Immersion coaching career (“Hey! I’m a pretty good swimmer when somebody bothers to show me how to do it!”)
2005 to current: Personal trainer, lifeguard, distance cyclist, coffee slave, crazy housemate, dog lover and Total Immersion fanatic

So, while I’m not Elle McPherson, I AM a (somewhat) normal woman “of an age” who is dedicated to controlling the aging process as much as humanly possible–while having fun doing it.  Not above devouring a chocolate chip scone upon occasion, but fully engaged in the battle to include more whole grains, fruits and veggies in my daily diet.

It’s been a wild ride, and I’ve learned a couple of things. I’ll bet you have, too. I’ll post some of my experiences with the hope that you’ll share yours in a comment!

In spite of a rocky experience during my first race, I’d discovered that training for triathlons was a fun way to stay motivated and fit. I’d also discovered that competing was such a rush, it almost made me puke. (I know, I’m not unique in this regard.)

Since I wasn’t a natural athlete, I figured I needed to employ every edge I could find. I liked to read, so I read about triathlons. A type of swimming was mentioned: Total Immersion. My best friend’s husband had given her the original Total Immersion book  for Christmas. I borrowed it, rudely, before she’d gotten a chance to read it. (Amazingly, she is still my friend!)

I read it eagerly. I stopped swimming and started doing swim “drills.” I quickly recognized that I was not smart enough to think about the approximately 200,000 little nuances necessary to have a perfect stroke. Total Immersion preaches using one focal point at a time. This I could handle.

With the drills, I didn’t seem to be getting as much of a physical workout. That felt like cheating. It was a leap of faith to believe things would come together, but slowly, they did. After a couple of months of drills I started mixing in whole-stroke swimming. Yes, it really took that long, but keep in mind that my poor technique was deeply ingrained. My muscles weren’t willing to surrender the bad habits I had been repeating over and over. To this day, if I get too tired or try to swim too fast, those habits still rear their ugly heads. (They make the Loch Ness Monster look like Barney the Dinosaur. Truly sinister!)

What sets Total Immersion swimming apart? It’s the emphasis on mindful swimming. It is a constant challenge, because my brain gets a little feisty sometimes and decides I should be able to think about two or three aspects of my stroke simultaneously. Soon I will realize that none of the two or three focal points are really getting the attention they deserve. I have to go back to one focal point at a time.

Humbling. However, one can also experience a mental calm not common in our busy world. Difficult to describe, this state is also addictive. It’s like permission to NOT multi-task.

Swimming the Total Immersion way can heal your body, helping you develop strength and flexibility. It can help you “turn back the clock” by improving your coordination and balance. Best of all, if you practice it using the focal point method, it will drain the stress right out of you.

In spite of the fact that I wasn’t particularly athletic in high school, I’ve somehow always found some form of exercise to enjoy, from cheerleading to cross-country skiing. In my 20s, I taught aerobics, wearing a leotard and leg warmers a la Jane Fonda. What a great time for all of us, huh?

In my 30s, I got burned out on aerobics and started swimming for fitness. I was not good. I got very tired. I must have been getting a GREAT workout because I was fighting my way from one end of the pool to the other, doing battle with every water droplet I encountered. It was ugly, and it wasn’t very fun.

I decided I wanted to do a triathlon. I found a whole new level of discomfort in the water. In addition to working way too hard, I was now very stressed out by competing in the water.

During an indoor sprint triathlon (I was about 35 at the time), I had a panic attack during the swim leg. I blame the woman who shared my lane. In my practices, I had almost always had my own lane, or had been swimming with a friend. This woman–let’s call her Wavezilla–moved a LOT of water. She caused mini-tsunamis that went straight into my mouth when I rolled for breath.

At the end of my second length, I stood up in the pool. I damn near got out. There were spectators and I had a decision to make. Would I rather suffer the indignity of quitting, or suffer the horror of continuing with Wavezilla sharing my lane? By that time, she was several lengths ahead of me. I decided to do one more length and see how I felt. I finished the length, stood up, and had the exact same mental conversation that I had just had at the other end of the pool. Okay. Another length, then decide. I did sixteen lengths that way.

I finished with a lousy time, but what an accomplishment! I had competed. I had survived a competition. I was hooked.

But I needed to figure out how to swim with confidence. Total Immersion had the answer. Read about my First Brush with TI.