I Can Too conquer the fear of the unknown

09 Sep 2020

This is my second session in the water, and I’ve made two whole laps – 100 metres – before gasping in the shallow end and preparing to do it again. In fourteen weeks, laughable at this point, I’m going to swim two kilometres in open water. Coach Gary Emmerton patiently, kindly explains what’s going wrong, and how together, we’re going to fix it. Basically, I don’t know how to breathe, and it’s because I’m not a strong swimmer. 

I also don’t know how to ocean swim because I’ve made a lot of excuses why I shouldn’t bother. From adolescent arrogance that I’m ‘good enough’ in the water to complete a lap, to the easy wins in adulthood that catching a few waves in the ocean from a standing start was fun on its own, so why do anything differently? I grew up in the country, and it took a decade of living in Sydney to really see that the city is surrounded by water. I was severely missing out. 

I hated swimming lessons as a kid, and I needed to acknowledge that memory and break the myth I’d made that I was not an ocean swimmer. Running made sense, and I’d completed five or six half marathon programs and a full marathon with Can Too, as both a participant and Mentor. I’d become reasonably good at it too and was only getting better.

Running had taken me out of my comfort zone in my first Can Too program in 2009. Logic said that if you’re tired when you run, you walk, or you stop. Swimming, you can’t stop because there’s nowhere to stop! How do you stand or take a break in the water? That sent me into a panic. So, I don’t know how to swim because I was scared of failing, and I wouldn’t be in control.

I need to come back to why I’d signed up to do something physically and emotionally demanding when there was the option of doing something more familiar instead. In 2014, my girlfriend and I were in a long-distance relationship – we were figuring out if or when I’d go to join her in London, or if she’d move back. 

Can Too was always a beacon – the community turned my life around once before and a lot of runners had transitioned to ocean swimming. It had taken me about four half marathon programs before I finally stepped up to a full marathon, and wished I’d done it sooner. I was in for the Learn to Ocean Swim program. It was either be in a rut at home, being uncomfortably comfortable, or doing something new and scary.

The ocean at least tasted a bit better than the pool, though the pool had safety – there was always an edge to grab on to. Thinking about how to tackle the waves made me anxious, and not having a solid surface directly below my toes in deeper water was overwhelming. Can Too coaches know how to ease participants in, and rather than seeing the swim as one huge problem I needed to reframe it as a series of small challenges.

Get under the waves, touch the sand, get a feel for the water, then it’s one arm over the other. Repeat, repeat. Focussing on the process cut the anxiety.

I had people on my side. Team Captain, Pia Singer was perpetually confident, and her ‘let’s get in and do it!’ attitude was infectious. Pia, along with the cool and calm crew of volunteers and water safety pros, became my biggest champions, and Pia and I quickly became friends – another Can Too bonus.

Observing the ocean, the patterns of where water formed rips, and how to take a break in the water showed me that my fears were unfounded. There was now control where I’d only seen chaos. 

Race day was thrilling and daunting! My mind had been a sponge over the previous three months, and I was prepared. Moments before the race, Pia convinced the race marshall that she was going to join the 30-34 men’s group, and we dived into the water together. The race passed in a blur, but I remember catching a wave onto the beach, seeing Pia beside me, grabbing her hand and running to a triumphant finish.

Can Too swim showed me – again – that anything is possible. I found joy where I’d only experienced terror and failure. I’m still in awe of the mentors who are calm, confident and supportive with people feeling panicky in the water, and that’s something I want to give back.

My Can Too swim was five years ago. Since then I’ve gone on to complete an Ironman, a 5km open water swim and a 10km pool swim. The fear of the unknown won’t stop me again.

Paul Taylor with his wife Lala Day. Lala was his girlfriend living overseas as mentioned in the story so it all worked out in the end!