My Lifelong Teacher - Ryan Liu
Ryan Liu is a rising sophomore and swimmer at Choate Rosemary Hall in Wallingford, Connecticut.
It is hard for me to remember how I felt when I jumped into the swimming pool for the first time, as that happened almost twelve years ago. If someone were to ask me how I started my swimming career, the only thing I could recall is that I was so afraid of water that I fled the swimming pool during my first ever lesson! As funny as it sounds, I got scared merely looking at the pool. It was my first time seeing such a large body of water in person, and the unfamiliarity scared me. However, my mom, who had a huge passion for swimming and was probably the best amateur swimmer I know, encouraged me to at least try this sport. After promising me that I was well-protected, with my swimming coach and so many lifeguards around, she convinced me to give it a shot. To my surprise, I gradually came to love this sport.
As I practiced more and more, my abilities grew and my lap times kept refreshing every week. One and a half years later, I joined a club team. Despite a huge step-up in intensity, I was thrilled to begin swimming competitively, especially when the coach told me how many swim meets I could go to and how much I could grow as a swimmer. With each meet, I improved, learning how to find the weakness of my competitors and get myself in peak shape for each meet. I became stronger and faster after each swim meet until I met my biggest and most powerful opponent — anxiety.
Each time before I jumped from the block, I became nervous about my potential "failure." What if I lost my event? What if I can't break my personal record? I have always tried to relax by listening to my favorite songs or chatting with my teammates, but this never worked. I lost several important meets because of this.
There was one meet in 2019 that was especially memorable for me. I was in a relay with my teammates as the fourth swimmer. After our first two swimmers finished their segments, my team already had a huge advantage — we were almost three meters ahead of every other team. There was no possible way for us to lose this race. But was there?
My anxiety began creeping in. I was so nervous when I stepped on the block, unable to escape from the fear of possible failure. What if I couldn't perform at my best? What if my team loses just because of me? Would my teammates blame me? I tried to swim as fast as possible, but my anxiety dragged me back harder than the water ever did. The other swimmers were closing in on me. Three meters. Two meters. One meter. Before long, we were side by side, and I could do nothing but watch them overtake me. When I touched the edge of the swimming pool, I realized that I lost the relay for the team. I fumbled an unlosable race. I was upset. I was helpless. More than anything, I felt so guilty when I saw the disappointment on my teammates' faces. My team lost the relay because of me, and only because of me.
For a long time, I feared participating in swim meets, especially relays. The mere thought of facing another loss was unbearable to me. Recognizing my conflict, my teammates and coaches stepped in, reminding me that losing wasn't my sole burden to bear and that even the world's greatest swimmers are not immune to defeat. They also shared strategies for self- improvement, teaching me how to analyze my performances through race film and uncover my specific weaknesses. Their support encouraged me to start racing again, and though I would occasionally underperform, I was steadily improving and outdoing myself, setting new personal bests that were unimaginable before.
Over time, my perspective on swimming meets evolved as I matured. I began to understand that my performances were influenced by numerous factors such as my training and physical and mental readiness for each competition. Winning should not be taken for granted, nor do losses negate my relentless efforts in the pool. Rather than viewing these meets as 'torture,' fixated on the outcome, on winning or losing, I shifted my outlook. I recognized each meet as a distinct opportunity to refine my skills, strengthening my physical and mental resilience. Instead of shying away from the block, I should savor every second I can spend in the water; the first step to winning any event is to be confident, prepared, and most importantly, ready to have fun swimming.
Likewise, all my wins and losses helped me shape how I value swim meets. Although my fight against anxiety took almost three years from beginning to end, I truly believe that it was worth the time and effort put in. Since then, I've competed in countless meets and naturally, experienced numerous losses. Yet, unlike my former self, I am now thankful for these defeats. They've provided me the valuable opportunity to refine my skills, identify my weaknesses, and learn from my opponents.
Swimming has now become an integral part of my life. More importantly, it serves as a lifelong teacher. It equips me with the resilience to bounce back from adversity and the courage to rise from defeat. Today, I no longer fear losing. Instead, I embrace every loss as a steppingstone towards improvement, and every victory as proof of my efforts, celebrating the wisdom I’ve gained from this remarkable sport as I dive into each race.
