Silver Lining

Every once in a while we have a practice where everyone is sick. Whether it’s a cold, the flu, bronchitis, anxiety, depression, you name it. Once one kid gets it, they all get it.

Last week, we had one of those on Tuesday. One kid had the flu, another went into urgent care, and a third with a concussion. When you have a squad of 12 girls, you need every single one to make anything work. Fortunately, there are two coaches that can step in to put up a few stunts.

Before nearly every practice, I stop at Dutch to refuel with a cold brew. Last Tuesday I did just that. (Pro Tip: order a Candy Cane cold brew and substitute cream for chocolate milk. Add peppermint sprinkles, and prepare to have your life changed forever.)

I drank my coffee as I sat in traffic for the rest of my afternoon commute to the gym and before I knew it, more than half was gone. If you know me, you know how long I usually take to drink my coffees. I walked into the gym expecting a full team practice and was frustrated to find out that three kids wouldn’t be able to participate. Well, looks like Dirk and I are stepping in for the night.

After about 5 reps, I was starting to feel the coffee sloshing around in my stomach. It didn’t feel good, and if you’ve been following this blog you know how triggered I am by an upset stomach. Dirk saw my face go white as a sheet and offered to finish out the rest of the 10 reps the stunt group had left. I stood on the side of the mat and offered feedback when I could, but I was failing to keep my mind off of my stomach as it flipped. In the back of my mind I knew this had potential to evolve into a panic attack at any minute. My kids could see that I wasn’t well and that worried me.

We gave the girls a water break and I sprinted to the bathroom, afraid of the possibility I might throw up. My heart raced, I felt a hot flash start at my feet and race up my spine. The pits of my tee shirt were damp with sweat and my esophagus began to close. I feared the worst and needed to escape. I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror trying my best not to rely on my safety behaviors, repeating to myself: I have the strength to get through this.

Right as I was about to tell Dirk that I needed to go home, something crossed my mind. So many of the girls on my team struggle with this same ailment: anxiety and panic. What kind of example am I setting for them if I just run from this problem every time it arises? The last thing I want for them is to feel weak. If I leave practice right now, I’m showing them that they need to give into their fear.

I walked out of the bathroom, still shaking from the adrenaline running through my body. I stepped outside for some fresh air and counted to 100. I rubbed lavender oil on my chest, and went back into practice.

My girls could read me like a book. My face was white, my hands were quivering, my voice was unsteady. They knew what was going on, but still asked “Paca, are you ok?” I told them “Not right now, but I will be in a few minutes.” They were shocked by my response. If I had told them I was fine, they would have known I was lying. By telling them I’m not ok, I normalize the anxiety. They see me acknowledge my feelings and watch me fight through it. I want them to see what it looks like to welcome the discomfort and come out on the other side. I need them to know it’s ok to have a bad day, and just because you hit a speed bump doesn’t mean you’ll crash and burn. Anxiety will only stop them if they let it.

Fifteen minutes after I returned to practice, I was fine. No nausea, no anxiety, no problems. I was engaged in practice again. I was involved in what was going on. Eventually I worked back into that stunt group missing a girl.

A few months ago, I wouldn’t have been able to do that. I would have gotten into my car and left practice as quickly as possible. It’s amazing to see such tangible improvements. I still have a long way to go, but I’m working on it and I’m getting there. At the end of the day, I’m in treatment for me. For the improvement of my life. But I want to inspire others to start their fight too. To face their demons head on as well.

It’s not going to be easy, and it’s not going to happen over night. But, it will be worth it. I can’t wait to see the day when I no longer live in fear and anxiety doesn’t take away from my daily life. It’s coming.