My life used to be completely driven by numbers. Over the course of my last five years as a competitive athlete, my morning routine began with a blaring 5:00 am alarm and a two hour swim practice consisting of 8,000 yards of hard work. My rationale behind choosing to endure this daily pain was because of my belief: “This will pay off.”

This belief was operationalized to the Olympic Trial cut for the 100m butterfly. This time was tattooed in my brain and all I valued was achieving this tangible outcome of a number. However, I repeatedly fell short of my goal and my life’s purpose was essentially lost. Eventually, I decided to hang up the goggles and retire from my career as a competitive athlete. During this transition, I experienced relief and grief, happiness and depression, and solace and confusion. I had to accept that this chapter of my life had ended in a way I had not imagined. Without numbers I felt like I had nothing, so I knew I had to find a new way to move forward.

With my goggles on, I could only see life through a numbers-oriented lens, but when I took the goggles off I gained a new perspective: process over outcome. In my reflection, I learned that my experience as an athlete was less about the end goal of a quantifiable time, but rather the impact of the journey. It was the daily commitment I had to the pool even when that meant feeling like a failure. I learned the valuable lessons of patience, consistency, and inviting experiences of discomfort.

The process of “failing” as part of a growth process is not comfortable, but I have not understood the concepts of growth and success to come from comfort. I choose to look at my mistakes and failures as a gift of knowledge, and an opportunity to reflect and grow.

While swimming did not pay off with regards to the Olympic Trial cut, it did pay off in teaching me treasured life lessons and instilling future values in me as a therapist. In therapy, I believe that the outcome is never guaranteed, but diligent investment in the process is crucial for growth. This commitment to the process can be daunting and uncomfortable, but is a necessary mechanism of change.

This module of perseverance and resilience is how I approach treatment with my clients as well as how I strive to live my life as a person and clinician. I value taking risks, seeking feedback, and embracing all my journeys in hopes to be the best version of myself and to show up as the best version of myself for others. Now I enjoy the smell of chlorine, a scent once associated with measurable success, as it reminds me of my choice to live not for a “pay off” but for a meaningful, enriched, ever-growing life.