I shiver as water laps against my ankles. The neck of my black wetsuit feels too tight on my throat. I pull at it nervously.
The sunrise brightness is crisply clear over the water. Three orange buoys bounce in the reservoir lake water like ridiculous kiddie pool play toys. Lifeguards are moving into position in kayaks.
This is a final practice before my first triathlon next week. Today is a race day simulation.
Because I re-learned to swim as an adult, swimming is not my favorite activity. I’ve been practicing open water swimming for the last couple months with my triathlon team, though.
I wade into the murky water and splash around a bit to warm up. Up the hill, my bike stands waiting for me in the transition area, along with my running shoes.
Our coach offers a few encouraging words and reminders. She smiles brightly. My heart beats hard in my chest. I adjust my goggles for the 7th…9th…13th time.
Did coach just holler, “Go?” We start. One hundred women jump into the water with various levels of enthusiasm and trepidation.
My body moves through the motions I’ve been taught. I start a rhythm that feels steady enough. I look up to sight the first buoy, and I see that most of the other swimmers are already yards ahead of me.
I pick up my pace. What if I’m the only swimmer left? Talk about embarrassing! I kick harder. My arms cut into the water.
Pull. I look up again. My goggles are fogged. Where are the orange buoys? Why are they so friggin’ tiny? They should make those stupid things bigger. I decide to swim a little farther and try sighting again.
My chest feels fluttery but I ignore it. I need to get moving. There was another swimmer around me a minute ago but I don’t see her now. Crap.
Stroke, stroke. I pop my head fully up from the water and see I have swam off course. Way off to the left. No other swimmers around.
I’ll be behind! I’ll be the last one out here! All the lifeguards will stand around waiting for me!
I bet they all laugh at me and think what a stupid swimmer I am. They think I am ridiculous to sign up for this event.
I put my head down, aim the correct direction, and pull harder. I have to breathe with every stroke instead of every three. I kick harder still.
I have *got* to catch up with the others. What about the bike? My bike will be the last one standing there! And the run? Will everyone wait around for me to finish the run? I’m one of the slowest runners.
There is no air. NO AIR. I flip over onto my back. I start the back stroke. I’m trying to breathe. My brain says, “Slow down” but my body moves fast. I’m confused.
Our coach paddles over to me in a kayak. “Hold on to the edge and catch your breath,” she instructs me. I have no idea why she is telling me to do this. I am perfectly fine.
I cling to the edge of the boat. She slowly paddles toward shore. I take in great, gulping breaths, but the air won’t go down. I think I’m sobbing but I’m not totally sure.
I have no idea what she is talking about. Why can’t I finish my swim? Why is she moving me towards shore? This swim isn’t going to count. This race won’t count!
It isn’t until after the event that I fully understand what happened. I had a panic attack while swimming.
This is a practice event, but my first “real” triathlon is just one week away. Do I withdraw from the event that I trained so hard for? There would be even more swimmers, more adrenaline. How in the world will I overcome my fear?
At the end of every triathlon there is typically food for the racers to replenish our nutrition — watermelon, gatorade, bananas. Sometimes they offer potato chips for the salt.
It’s Just More Potato Chips. This becomes my mantra for swimming.
Note: If you deal with panic attacks or any other mental health issue, please see a trained professional. This is what worked for me, but your experience may be different and require different care. Check out helpyourselfhelpothers.org as one possible resource.
Your mind and body have to stay connected in order to prevent panic. Look back at my panicked swim. My mind was everywhere but where I was — it was at my bike, worried about the lifeguards’ thoughts, worried about the finish line, worried about the other swimmers. I blocked out what was going on within myself.
In order to heal panic attacks, you must promise yourself that you will always do whatever you have to do to keep yourself safe. You must stay in the moment and be aware of what is going on with your body.
Keeping myself safe matters more to me than any race, any finish line, or worries about what anyone thinks of me. If I need to slow down, I slow down. If I need to stop and rest, I rest. If I need to get a drink, I get a drink. If I’m last, then I’m just last.
Since then, I have never had one panic attack moment in the water or anywhere else.
When I start to get nervous, I remind myself, “It’s just more potato chips.” That’s my cue to stay in the moment, pay attention to my body, and take care of myself in whatever ways I need.
New! We’ve updated the My Hope Toolbox Printable Kit to include 20 beautiful pages. Coupon Code good for just a few more days!
Have you dealt with panic attacks or high anxiety moments? What is your take-away from the Potato Chip method? Check out the 5 Circles photo here: http://www.5circlesteachingmethod.com/index.shtml.
Hey Sara! I’m new to blogging so my audience is still quite small but I wanted to let you know I LOVED this blog post! I’m sharing it with my readers on my Facebook page. ❤️ Thank you for writing it!
Thanks so much for the share and for your support. I hope your blogging goes really well! I love writing and keeping up my blog.
Thanks for sharing this story! I’ve suffered from panic attacks & continued anxiety as well. It’s a dark road at times. Love your “It’s just more potato chips!” Some friends & I just recently started a linkup. I’d love to invite you to add this post or others. (Found your blog via Pinterest & love it – so real!) It’s called “100 Happy Days” and you can find it on my website- http://www.lifeofscoop.com – if you’re interested.
Great example! I too have dealt with anxiety and debilitating panic attacks (in fact, I’m sharing my 5 day series this week about my own journey through anxiety.) It’s not an easy journey, but there IS hope!