My head is down; I’m daydreaming; I can't see. When all of a sudden I see an object more out the corner of my eye. A beaver?? I panic and pop up out of the water, knowing that there are beavers in the lake.
This isn't about imaginary animals, though. It's about perspective.
This beaver incident happened while I was doing an open water swim (OWS) back in August, and similar events have occurred a handful of times. (Amazingly, my heart rate spiked to the highest rate of my entire workout thanks to an imaginary animal.)
For those who have not experienced something similar during an OWS, imagine the feeling of staring down into the brown, murky water — barely able to see the tips of your fingers — the sun's rays creating shadows of movement in the water.
When the mind has space to wander and the eyes can't be trusted, it’s easy to become overwhelmed.
Just ask any five-year-old lying in bed in a dark room. A 2015 study published in the International Journal of Psychophysiology suggests that the fear isn't necessarily of the dark, but is more a fear of nighttime. Humans, throughout their evolution, are most vulnerable at night.
Swimming in open water feels vulnerable.
This mental battle that happens in the water is just as important to overcome as the physical, and the tool that I rely on is one of my Lessons from 25 Years: "Jump up to 30,000 feet every now and then."
When swimming, it's important to stay alert with everything happening: the splashing, the shadows, a focus on swim stroke, and the water’s current. With all that going on, a small wave might look like a beaver, a turtle, or a shark.
But zoom out, and it's a serene swimmer gliding along the water — probably some birds in the background whistling "Zip-a-Dee-Doo-Dah" too.
This happens in daily business, heated arguments, or walking up the basement stairs. The commotion, noise, and distractions can create beavers when there are none. When the mind wanders and the eyes can't be trusted, I try to refocus and zoom out to 30,000 feet.
Just keep swimming.