Scrolling the Google results for \u201ctips for facing fear,\u201d I groaned. I didn\u2019t need another \u201cStay positive!\u201d reminder. What I needed was to magically be able to breathe underwater\u2014or at least roll reliably.<\/p>\n
My community lives and breathes whitewater, possibly literally, considering how much of their spare time people spend on the river. I watch their Reels on Instagram. I catch them huddled at the take-out, recapping lines over waterfalls and listen to their whoops as they surf waves like it\u2019s no big deal.<\/p>\n
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Meanwhile, I\u2019m trying to unzip my dropseat so I can nervous pee next to a Class II rapid for the third time that morning. I don\u2019t have a combat roll (yet). All my mismatched gear is borrowed. Beet red, I have to ask for help pulling my spray skirt over the cockpit. Every time.<\/p>\n
\u201cJust do it scared\u201d isn\u2019t a game-changing tip for landlubbers like me. Instead, with each week of learning to paddle, I\u2019ve devoted myself to observing my relationship with fear and experimenting with how to keep it from running the show.<\/p>\n
At this point, it feels like I\u2019ve tried almost everything. Some strategies were helpful, some were a waste of time. But all of them got me on the water. While my roll still hasn\u2019t improved, the paralyzing anxiety is (almost) giving way to fun.<\/p>\n
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<\/a>\n\t\t\t<\/div><\/figure>\n\t\t<\/div>\n\nAvoid the Fear Altogether<\/strong> \u201cWhat if I forgot my spray skirt? I\u2019d have to sit out.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cI could just keep driving past the meeting spot…\u201d<\/p>\n The yellow lines on the highway blurred as I drove myself to my first group paddle without my partner or an instructor, fingers gripping the wheel tightly as if fighting to turn the car around. My mind tried excuse after excuse, each one tempting me to give in and find a way to not have to paddle that day. If I could fully believe just one excuse (and convince my friends it was legitimate), I wouldn\u2019t have to face my fear at all!<\/p>\n After all, I was brand new to kayaking. Nobody would blame me if I decided it wasn\u2019t the sport for me. But soon enough, I pulled into the meeting spot, the boat still firmly strapped to the roof. My friends waved me over, and I knew I\u2019d be accountable for getting my butt into the kayak and paddling as planned.<\/p>\n Rating<\/strong>: Dreaming up potential excuses reminded me that I don\u2019t have<\/em> to do anything, but it didn\u2019t remind me that I get to<\/em> be out there paddling with friends. If I wasn’t really feeling it, fine. It’s okay to say, “today’s not my day.” But I knew backing out would\u2019ve left me even more frustrated with myself.<\/p>\n Too Busy to be Scared.<\/strong> Still, the nervous system can only handle so much stimulation. By the time I arrived at the put-in, I\u2019d only spent a measly four minutes (the length of the drive) thinking about the stretch of river before me. At the put-in, I perched on a cold rock, mesmerized by the rippling current below a waterfall that my friends planned to oh-so-casually huck in a few minutes. It was only noon, and I was already wiped out, leaving me little energy to deal with the fear that had somehow caught up to me.<\/p>\n Rating<\/strong>: Yes, being busy distracted me from feeling fear in the hours before running the river. But it did nothing for me once at the put-in except leave me hectic and stressed. Maybe I had to be more present? Or at least have packed a snack.<\/p>\n Become One With The Kayak.<\/strong> Fine. Why not go full Olympian and pull out all the tricks to let my body lead the way? I meditated, I stretched. I visualized perfect peel-outs and a Zen-like t-rescue. I repeated my mantra, reminding myself that I am stoic<\/em>, dammit!<\/p>\n \u201cInhale confidence, exhale doubt,\u201d I repeated to myself, dragging my boat toward the bank. As I wedged myself into my plastic deathtrap and pushed off, I tried to exude a confidence I did not feel. \u201cI am one with the kayak. I am<\/em> the water.\u201d The current grabbed at the boat, rocking my tense body, reminding me that I was, in fact,\u00a0not\u00a0<\/em>the water. At only the second challenging rapid, all my mental training washed downstream and left me remarkably un-Zen.<\/p>\n \u201cThey\u2019re just happy little waves! HAPPY! LITTLE! WAVES!\u201d, I repeated as my partner gently pointed out that my tone did not match my words.<\/p>\n Rating<\/strong>: Mindfulness is a helpful tool to keep in your dry bag. It\u2019s not going to hurt anything. But all forcing it did was give me a false sense of control. I needed to find a balance between thinking and feeling comfortable on the water.<\/p>\n Embrace My Inner Hydrology Nerd<\/strong> I leaned into science, reviewing lessons from a Swiftwater Rescue course. Current moves faster on the outside of a turn. A suspended load floats downstream faster than a surface load. That\u2019s just a wave, not a hole. And that hole is friendly since it\u2019s shaped like a smiley face. I quizzed myself on mnemonics learned in my beginner kayaking course: the Tuck-Tap-Tug-Tumble of a wet exit, the PASE of eddy turns. A level 1 edge is like sneaking a fart out from one butt cheek (those tips really stick with you). I dove into kayaking culture and lingo, Googling \u201cWhat is a stern squirt?\u201d and watching YouTube how-to videos.<\/p>\n The next time I hit the river, I vowed not to follow a friend through rapids but to read the water myself. And, finally, armed with knowledge, I felt the flow, the perfect mix of science and intuition that I\u2019d been searching for! Well, until a strainer freaked me out. I overcorrected my strokes, bounced off the bank, spun around and shot myself backward down the waves, just squeaking by the wood, heart racing.<\/p>\n But progress over perfection, right?!<\/p>\n Rating<\/strong>: Getting swiftwater rescue training and kayak instruction has been worth every penny! My confidence was growing, but something was missing. I wasn’t quite ready to make peace with fear.<\/p>\n Invite Fear to the Paddle Party<\/strong> After boating with a handful of other novice to intermediate female kayakers, I noticed that I wasn\u2019t the only paddler wrestling with fear, and somehow, that felt comforting. I craved this empathy and camaraderie on the water.<\/p>\n This Mediocre Kayakers chat connected me to a community that gets it. Someone would suggest a time, and suddenly, we\u2019d have a motley crew meeting up to support each other from rigging to rapids to shuttle. I watched my new friends flip and attempt three rolls before getting upright (or swimming), even when rocks scraped their helmets. I heard them admit their nerves and still offer to lead the way while shouting words of encouragement. It felt like a party, but one that fear was invited to join. So, I decided to allow fear to come for a ride with me.<\/p>\n Rather than desperately avoiding it, I found that fear and fun could go hand-in-hand. In this community, I could voice my fear, vocalizing my nervousness to those around me. My check-in a few rapids in of \u201cI\u2019m at 60% fear, 40% fun!\u201d turned into \u201cTake-out already?! But I\u2019m at 95% fun!\u201d<\/p>\n Instead of being too busy to think about fear, I built in more time for play on the river. I paddleboarded the same sections, getting a new vantage point where swimming wasn\u2019t as scary. I practiced rolls in the lake, watched others playboat, and spent time picnicking by the water. Because if boating isn\u2019t fun, why bother?<\/p>\n I stopped blocking out my thoughts and started asking questions so I could learn from a wide range of experiences. \u201cWhy do you like that length of paddle?\u201d \u201cDo you think I\u2019d do well in that kind of boat?\u201d \u201cWhat went through your mind just then?\u201d Finally, I allowed myself to choose my lines, shifting my focus to my feelings. Gratitude washed over me for the lush green banks beside me, a new appreciation for the beauty of mixing currents, for the patience of my group when I\u2019m scream-laughing through the waves.<\/p>\n At the end of a recent run, my boat bobbing in the eddy, it hit me\u2013I wanted to do that again. Now. It was the first time I wasn\u2019t just relieved to have finished; I was aching for more. Finally, I understood why so many people live for this wild sport.<\/p>\n Rating<\/strong>: Winner, winner! Fear doesn\u2019t have to become my BFF. But the more I attempt to dull it, the louder it yells. So, I\u2019ll keep taking it along for the ride, knowing that by working alongside it, I\u2019m forging a deeper relationship with myself and the forces of nature that make kayaking so worthwhile.<\/p>\n Fear doesn\u2019t have to be a bad thing. But my fear was sneaky, popping up in times and places I didn\u2019t expect, transforming how I looked at challenge and risk.<\/p>\n Even sneakier is how kayaking is becoming a full-blown infatuation. I didn\u2019t want this to happen! Just months ago, I told my partner, \u201cKayaking isn\u2019t going to become a thing for me. It\u2019s just to try something new. Maybe I\u2019d try Class III here or there, whatever.\u201d<\/p>\n
\n\u201cMaybe the kayak will fly off the roof of the car and I won\u2019t be able to paddle.\u201d<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/d2kl15j267vxtq.cloudfront.net\/duct-tape\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/10\/26200929\/DTD23_Fear-Management_Angie-Marie-15.jpg\")
<\/p>\n
\nPanting and sweaty, I hobbled around the put-in, attempting to pull on my dry suit without letting the feet touch sharp rock. I\u2019d already run six miles, played fetch with the dogs and cleaned the kitchen. My logic? If I packed my pre-paddle schedule to the brim, I had no time left to be scared. Instead, fear went into the \u201cdeal with it later\u201d mental file.<\/p>\n\n\t\t\t\t![\"\"](\"https:\/\/d2kl15j267vxtq.cloudfront.net\/duct-tape\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/10\/26200328\/DTD23_Fear-Management_Angie-Marie-3-100x100.jpg\")
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\n\u201cI\u2019m not distracting myself out of this one,\u201d I thought one morning, loading gear into the car. As I fought to tame the hedgehog doing backflips in my stomach, I recalled my beginner kayaker course when my instructor told me, \u201cAngie, you\u2019re a thinker. And sometimes, you just need to stop thinking so much.\u201d<\/p>\n![\"\"](\"https:\/\/d2kl15j267vxtq.cloudfront.net\/duct-tape\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/10\/26200630\/DTD23_Fear-Management_Angie-Marie-9.jpg\")
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\nExasperated that none of my tricks were working, I looked to knowledge. Maybe I could educate my way into paddling with confidence? Logically, I knew I was pretty safe on the sections I was paddling: It was low-consequence water, my group had plenty of safety gear, and I was boating with people who could throw me on their deck and float me out of there blindfolded. Yet somehow, the fear felt truer than logic.<\/p>\n\n\t\t\t\t![\"\"](\"https:\/\/d2kl15j267vxtq.cloudfront.net\/duct-tape\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/10\/26214507\/DTD23_Fear-Management_Angie-Marie-30-100x100.jpg\")
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<\/p>\n
\n\u201cMediocre kayakers, excellent stoke,\u201d I tongue-in-cheek dubbed a new group text chat, inviting friends and acquaintances to partake in river-related chatter and planning.<\/p>\n\n\t\t\t\t![\"\"](\"https:\/\/d2kl15j267vxtq.cloudfront.net\/duct-tape\/wp-content\/uploads\/2023\/10\/26200659\/DTD23_Fear-Management_Angie-Marie-10-100x100.jpg\")
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<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"