Lately, I haven’t posted much on this blog. Simply put — I’ve been too busy to find the time. I started swimming lessons, and they now claim two entire evenings of my week.
Learning a new skill as an adult might sound like an odd thing to chase. But it’s done the opposite of what I expected. A few sessions in, I realized just how confined I’d become to my 9-to-5 and 5-to-10 routine — “corporate by day, parent by night.” Without even noticing, that model had become my comfort zone.
That’s the thing about comfort zones: when something runs long enough, you get trapped in it without realizing you’re trapped. You don’t see it, because it doesn’t feel easy — not with the workload you carry, the hardships you face, the endless problems you’re solving just to keep both roles running smoothly. The struggle itself becomes the comfort in disguise. Every Monday you wait for the weekend. Every weekend you dread the week ahead. Round and round, with no real movement forward.
Starting swimming lessons disrupted both my work life and my personal life. I lost two evenings from my 5-to-10 role, and every plan I’d normally make in those slots had to be squeezed into the remaining five.
The sessions took me straight back to square one — to the feeling of starting from zero. Each kick, each arm rotation, each gasp for breath reminded me how hard it once was to master skills I now take for granted.
But here’s the best part: my body and mind had to move together in a way they hadn’t in years. Getting from one end of the pool to the other against the resistance of the water meant my brain had to strategize in ways it simply doesn’t at a desk. It had to think differently — and that alone sharpened how it works. Add to that the physical workout, and the quiet, grounded contentment of climbing out of the pool afterward, and the result is a kind of energy I hadn’t felt in a while. Every length I swam well made me proud — the small, private kind of proud that doesn’t need an audience.
Looking back down memory lane, I’m reminded that everything I’ve ever achieved came the same way: through struggle first. And it feels good to feel that struggle again — because it’s proof, every time, that you can.
Comfort zones don’t announce themselves. They just quietly take over, wrapped in busyness and responsibility, until one day you’re standing in a pool learning to breathe again — literally and otherwise. If you’ve been circling your own version of this cycle, I’d love for you to join me for 7 Days to Show Up Differently at Work — a short challenge built for exactly this moment.
Grow 🌱 through what you go through 🏊♀️.
