Retirement
By Alison Colavecchia
8.16.01 (www.slowtwitch.com)

A while ago I attended a workshop entitled Transitions for retiring elite athletes. Although I am not a sports psychologist, I have an interest in providing clinical psychology services to athletes. I got more than I bargained for at the workshop.

We introduced ourselves, and when it came to my turn I described my past swimming accomplishments and life-after-retirement. I’d recently begun triathlons and hoped to complete an Ironman for my 40th birthday in 2002. The workshop’s host, Dr. Judy Goss of Canada’s National Sport Centre (Ontario), joked that perhaps I hadn't retired at all! Hmmm…

Topics like forced retirements versus chosen, and adjustments during the retirement cycle, all made clinical sense, yet it began to occur to me that I was working through personal unfinished business. I always felt my decision to stop swimming at 15-years-old amounted to quitting. I berated myself for my laziness and lack of courage.

As I listened to those in the workshop speak, I better understood the factors behind my decision to "quit." I had been swimming with our local swim club, and had done very well. My progress indicated that I’d soon have to move to a bigger club an hour from home. But my swim coach was (and still is) a role model and a second mom. I felt disloyal just thinking about changing teams, even though I knew she would have understood.

My older brother had made the team move and I watched him dedicate himself to the long drive twice a day, three hours of swim time per day, all while juggling his academics. He seemed unhappy much of the time.

This didn't look like fun. I was also burned out from years of two-a-day swims. I was ready for a more varied life. But still these just didn't seem valid enough reasons. What stuck ‘til now was that I’d quit. I now began to realize I hadn’t.

This workshop also covered the retirment cycle. I hadn’t simply made the jump to civilian life after leaving swimming. I wasn't sure where I fit in with my peers. I struggled with how to fill my time and stay organized. I entered the teenage milieu, where bars, alcohol, recreational drugs and cigarettes were the norm. I dove in. In fact, I would say that I worked as hard at that as I’d worked in the pool. While I have to confess I had a great time, in the end I felt I had again disappointed myself and others.

Over time I gradually reincorporated athletic activities into my life. I began feeling better and wanting more. Swimming was still the one thing I could do no matter what. When I was struggling elsewhere in my life I could still jump into a pool and feel confident. No one could take this away from me. Mastery is a powerful ego booster. But I never swam recreationally. If there was a pace clock on deck, I was using it. Eventually, I did learn to connect my swim workouts to my emotional state. If I needed a power boost I went hard, if I needed therapy I went long. This took me 15 years.

Perhaps the most significant gift I unwrapped at the workshop was the importance of my athletic identity. As a child, a big piece of my sense of self revolved around my athletic success. I defined myself as an athlete. I wasn't sure what I was outside of this. I know now. I am a mom, a wife, a daughter, a friend, an employee and a neighbor. Nowadays my sense of myself as an athlete is not separate from the rest of my life, but woven into it. It is not something lost that I am seeking to find again.

In active life and otherwise I can work hard toward a goal, be a part of a team, compete, push my limits, learn from mistakes, and celebrate successes. There is nothing wrong with complementing these qualities with a healthy dose of physical activity. I also recognize that I am at my best when parts of me don't jiggle and when I can run as fast and as far as my children. I also know that when I am physically active I am nicer to be around.

So while I may have retired as a competitive swimmer, I did not retire as an athlete. I doubt I ever will. I now see that at 15 I made a wise decision. I stopped, I did not quit. As I participate in triathlons and running races now, my sense of sportsman’s pride is returning, but it has a new face. I am a recreational athlete. I am bringing my lessons of the past to bear on my pursuits of the present.

For the first time, I feel a sense of closure with my retirement from competitive swimming.

Still Tri'n