Three years a Mighty Woman!

In three years of paddling a dragon boat with the Mighty
Women, I've reinvented myself--and earned all this bling!
 

Our blades in the water, the Mighty Women waited for the horn starting our last race of the season.

Perched on the edge of bench four in the dragon boat, I closed my eyes and took deep breaths. In 30 seconds, I would be paddling so hard I would have to remind myself to breathe.

The horn blasted! We dug in.

I was completing my third year paddling a dragon boat with the Mighty Women. And I have the biceps--and the dragon boat bling--to show for it. It's been a wild ride!

In the past three years, I've reinvented myself. Dragon boating has changed my body, my attitude and my life.

My old life had fallen apart, piece by piece. Although life doesn't offer us a chance at a complete do over, my only viable option was to make a fresh start from where I stood: divorced, suddenly unemployed, broke and trying to find firm footing on shifting sand.

Three years later, I'm standing on firmer ground. Have there been tough times? You bet! That's life.

Am I better off now, three years after the bottom dropped out of my life? Absolutely! I'm happier, healthier, more confident and definitely stronger. We don't realize how strong we are until we have to paddle through challenging rapids with lots of debris blocking our path and threatening to overturn our boat.

But now safely on the other side of a series of rapids, I've learned how strong I am:

• I can learn to become a journalist 30 years after earning my journalism degree, even though I'm twice the age of many of my fellow reporters.
• I can live in 550 square feet for three months without a bathroom, heat or running water.
• If I have to, I can move three times in three months. But I wouldn't recommend it.
• If I am frugal, I can live on 29 percent less salary than I had before.
• If a day seems particularly challenging, I can look deeper to find joy in simple things: walking in the woods, marveling at a sunset or hearing a loved one's soothing voice.

I've learned my limits too. I am not willing to live without friendship, laughter, chocolate or adventures!

On a Post-It note attached to my laptop I've written this prescription for joy in my new life:

Believe in myself.
Listen to my inner voice.
Build the life I imagine.
Reach toward my dreams.

When I'm powering through the water in a dragon boat with my teammates, I'm doing all of those things.

During our final race, I concentrated on my rhythm, my stroke, my breathing, my rotation. It's a big no-no to look outside the boat, especially during a race. But my ears are more easily distracted. I heard boats closing in on either side of us as we neared the finish line.

We had to paddle harder, deeper, stronger than ever before.

My lungs burning, I breathed out an audible "whoosh." Then with my paddle, I reached for my dreams.

My Own Olympic Medals: Collecting Dragonboating Bling

   My cat, Anakin Skywalker, admiring my dragonboating medals.

The London Olympics are in full swing, and the world is watching.

Images of athletes standing on the victors' podium and proudly wearing their gold, silver and bronze medals around their necks fill our computer and TV screens and our newspapers. The athletes kiss their medals. They are so overcome with emotion that tears well up in their eyes. Heady stuff!

Now that I am a seasoned dragonboat paddler who has paddled in 13 races in three dragonboat festivals this summer, I can relate better to the elation of performing in an athletic event and having my coach ceremoniously drape a medal around my neck. It's a feeling of accomplishment recognized.

This summer, I have collected three medals--gold, silver and bronze--for my team's performances in dragonboat races.

One of my editors at work asked me to bring my medals to our weekly team meeting. I did. I felt like a school kid during "show and tell." No one clapped or cheered. But my fellow journalists dutifully passed around my medals and said "cool" and other affirming adjectives.

I don't have a trophy case, so at home I have draped my medals from an antique floor lamp visible as I come through my front door and enter my living room. My friend Lee has been dragonboating for a few years and has collected an impressive array of medals. He is a woodworker and has made a large cutout of a dragon boat which he has secured on his wall. From this dragonboat hangs his collection of colorful medals. It's very cool.

Why are my dragonboating medals so meaningful? They are the only athletic medals I've won. Ever.

I'm not known for my athletic prowess. The only other time in my life I've been recognized for an athletic accomplishment was during my freshman year in high school when I received a track and field trophy for "most inspirational." I did not receive this trophy for my astounding performance. It's a pity trophy.

With my friends BaLinda and Linda, I had joined the track team for our rural high school. Anyone could join the team. The coach needed bodies to fill the events and qualify for track meets. No one was turned away. No one. Not even a 95-pound nonathletic farm girl.

I did like to run. Let me clarify the difference between enjoying running and being an accomplished runner. I never won a race. But I always showed up for practice and track meets, performed to the best of my nonathletic ability and cheered on my teammates. For this, I was awarded a trophy. Yes, it's a pity trophy, but it has a figurine of a girl running and is engraved with my name. More than 30 years later, I still display it on the bookshelf in my bedroom.

Most adults will not feel the elation of competing in an event and having a medal ceremoniously placed around their necks. I suggest that adults would be happier if medals were awarded for accomplishments we perform as parents, as employees and as citizens.

Why don't we have a gold medal awarded for the hours performed carpooling kids to their soccer games and standing on the sidelines for hours--year after year--in the relentless rain?

Wouldn't it be satisfying to receive a medal for all the nail-biting hours of teaching a teenager to drive? That's certainly a medal-worthy life event. The teenager is awarded with a driver's license and freedom, but all the parent receives are an increased insurance premium and sleepless hours late at night awaiting the safe return of the kid and the car.

What medal-worthy accomplishments have you performed? Give yourself a pat on the back. Then imagine yourself standing at the victors' podium, a medal draped around your neck.

Let me tell you from my own experience. It feels amazing.

Photo: Here I am with my dragonboating team, the Mighty Women, proudly displaying our bronze medals at the Kent Cornucopia dragonboating festival.