Here’s my confession: I had never worked with a coach before diving into swimming. Pretty surprising, right? Especially since I spend many of my days coaching others!
I’ve been blessed with amazing mentors and teachers who’ve shaped my journey, but a dedicated coach? That was entirely new territory. And let me tell you—it has transformed how I coach others.
As you may remember from the first installment of The Mermaid Diaries, I took that first swimming lesson on a lark. When I decided I wanted to level up my swimming game, I could have gone the DIY route: YouTube videos, books, online classes, group lessons, or tips from fellow swimmers—all of which I’ve since explored—but I chose a different path.
Since I know I learn best with one-on-one connection, I chose to work with a coach. I wanted someone who could see in me what I couldn’t see in myself and be honest about it. I was also looking for support tailored to my goals and swimming environment.
Let me be real with you—learning to swim in Chacala’s bay was intimidating and I felt exposed. Imagine your “growing edge” being on public display where everyone and anyone can see your every flail and bail. Talk about vulnerable!
Yet with the support of a coach, I felt braver.
My coach isn’t a cheerleader; she doesn’t just tell me what I want to hear. She is honest about my weaknesses and workarounds (my nicer way of saying “cheating”) which earned my trust immediately. And here’s the beautiful part: she doesn’t only see see my struggles, she sees my possibilities. She celebrates victories I might have missed or dismissed. And she christened me with a new nickname: Swimming Wonder. 😊
You know what this taught me about my own coaching? When you’re too focused on being liked, you’re not truly serving your client. My coach wasn’t there to be my friend—she was there to help me claim my joy as an ocean swimmer. (Though spoiler alert: I ended up adoring her anyway! 😁)
I’ll never forget my first open water lesson. I felt that blend of nervous and excited that your body can’t discern, which my brilliant niece Gladys calls “nervicited.” Standing next to my coach on the shore, she simply pointed to a structure floating on the horizon and said, “Swim to el faro.” And you know what? I did! Only in retrospect did it occur to me: that was my first-ever ocean swim, a cool 500 meters offshore!
My first ocean open water swim to El Faro in Chacala Bay
With her years of experience and hard-earned expertise, my coach designs programs that consistently push me out of my comfort zone yet are still within reach. And with every new target achieved, over time, my confidence soared. I set an ambitious goal: swimming one-way to Las Cuevas beach—an untouched paradisiacal cove about 3.25 kilometers away. The course would take me beyond the bay into the open channel where whales migrate. 🐳🐋 I had 5 weeks to prepare.
Aerial map showing original swim distance (to Las Cuevas) and revised swim distance (to La Islita–and back!)
My training schedule? Weekly ocean lessons with my coach on Saturdays (I was quite happy to get in the water after I had trekked the 45 minutes through the guanabana orchards, over the volcano, and through the jungle) and four days a week completing customized swim programs in my condo’s unconventional 15 meters pool. While not exactly ideal, you work with what you’ve got!
Relaxing in the condo pool after a workout.
I was excited that my friend Angélica, whom you may remember from the last 🧜🏽♀️ Mermaid Diary entry as the one who introduced me to her coach (now also my coach), was game for the adventure swim! About two weeks before our big day, we faced an unexpected challenge—our coach’s shoulder injury meant no safety paddler. Without a safety paddler, we’d need to adjust our route. Instead of a one-way swim to Las Cuevas, we pivoted to a round trip to La Islita—a rocky island marking the bay’s edge. Five kilometers round trip! 😱
But we adapted. Key lesson? Stay flexible and always, always prioritize safety!
Me and Angélica before the swim!
This alternative route followed the shore. That meant if we needed to bail at any point we could just get out of the water and scramble back on the rocks. While that was reassuring, our coach also cautioned us about La Islita’s sneaky riptide—thrilling if you know how to ride it, and less so if you don’t. And, if you get too close the island, the waves can crash you up on those rocks! (Stay tuned for more about how that warning plays out in a future chapter of 🧜🏽♀️The Mermaid Diaries!)
Before we realized it and with much anticipation, the day we’d been training for arrived! Angélica thoughtfully met me at the halfway point so I didn’t have to trek the whole way into town before the swim and drove us to the starting point. While I was grateful for the physical and emotional support, it was especially meaningful to share this experience with someone who understood all that it took to arrive at this moment, who recognized its importance, and who had also put in the hard work. It reminded me why I set up my one-of-its-kind Listening Partnership Coaching Program: a life-changing journey is simply better with a buddy! Never had that been more true that it was that morning!
Our coach met us on the beach, gave us one last pep talk, and off we went!
Me and Angélica starting out on our 5K adventure swim to La Islita-and back!
I started strong, keeping both La Islita and Angélica in sight. Channeling Dori from Finding Nemo, I focused on that rocky landmark ahead and just kept swimming.
As I neared La Islita, my mind swirled with our coach’s cautions. Where was that riptide lurking? What does a riptide look like anyway? How close could I safely get to that island? Three meters? Four? Why does everything look deceptively close in the open water?
Using my best imperial system’s judgment, I got what I estimated to be four meters from the island’s edge and called it good. Half-way point reached! Unfortunately, by this time in the swim, “nervous” had crowded out “excited” and turned into “fear.”
I stopped, looked around, and couldn’t see her anywhere. Then it hit me—I was completely alone out there. My laser focus on reaching the island while also not getting pulled into the riptide or crashed up against the rocks meant I had completely lost track of my swim buddy.
No Angélica. No coach. Just me, my safety buoy, and the vast ocean.🌊
I’ll be honest—that wasn’t my only rookie mistake. I hugged the shore too closely on the way out and battled the surf pushing me toward the boulder strewn beach. The return trip? I swung way out to sea, adding quite a bit of extra distance. I was in pure survival mode. No time to enjoy the view—I just wanted to feel sand under my feet again!
But here’s a fun twist—two years later, I swam that same route with a friend and it was pure joy. 🏊🏽♀️
As I stumbled onto the beach, trying to find my land legs after 5km of buoyant force from salt water, I was greeted by cheers! My condo neighbors—witnesses to my weeks of pool workouts—had tracked my bright yellow safety buoy along the coast from their hilltop perch. When they saw me round La Islita, they hopped in their car and drove 20 minutes to welcome me shoreside! 😭 They had come all the way to town just to celebrate my achievement. (More about the gift of community created and nurtured through swimming in an upcoming story!)
Kathy, Angélica, me, and Sue celebrating post-swim!
Tears welled up in my eyes as a tidal wave of emotions crashed over me—pure elation mixed with utter exhaustion, fierce pride tangled with humble gratitude. Standing there on the sand, I couldn’t quite believe it: six weeks ago, this feat seemed as unimaginable. Yet here I was, dripping with salt water and success, all because my coach had seen the swimming wonder in me before I could see it myself.
First thing on my victory agenda? The most epic post-swim feast of my life! 🍽️
