Starting Blocks

You know, it's funny looking back on the things that we considered important at one time in our lives, and how much those things have changed throughout the years. Masters Swimming has always been a huge part of my post-collegiate swimming career. I remember my first National meet, my first National title, and the awesome experience surrounding the US Masters World Championships at Stanford University. Those three experiences are tops on my list when I think back to my masters swimming career leading up to this past year.

"I'm a sprinter." That's what I've always said. I thrived off of raw speed, power and the explosion off of the starting blocks with each of my races. I never had the attention span to compete in distance events, although I've always been in awe of the athletes who did. I loved watching the breakouts turn after turn, lap after lap. The rhythm of their strokes hypnotizing me. Everything about the water soothed me.

Today the water still soothes me. But today I'm grateful to have the chance to swim at all. Last summer while training for the Green Bay Marathon, and having just completed the Door County Half Marathon I experienced symptoms that lead to the diagnosis of a cerebral aneurysm. I'm considered to be one very lucky gal in that most people never find out about brain aneurysms until after it is too late--my uncle Dale being one of those people.

I underwent my first two surgeries in June 2009. Complications from "waking" from anesthesia resulted in hematoma in my abdomen stretching my recovery from 2 weeks to 12. This was the first time in my life I had ever been immobile. And when I say that, I mean at all. Rarely 10 minutes go by without some sort of activity/movement from me. Maybe it's ADHD, maybe it's my "I'm a sprinter" mentality that constantly keeps me on the go. Whatever the reason, hearing "12 week recovery" and "wheelchair" were not things that sat well with me.

Faith, family, friends and a lot of determination and prayer helped me "recover" faster than anyone ever expected. Three weeks post-surgery I ran my first mile with my dad around our neighborhood block. I was thrilled...I was back.

But not for long.

Symptoms reemerged and I sought evaluation from one of the top neurosurgeons in the world, Dr. Frederick Meyer at Mayo Clinic in Rochester, MN. It was there he told me that I needed surgery again to replace the titanium coils that were no longer holding blood away from my aneurysm. He reassured me a fast recovery and that everything was going to be just fine. He also promised I'd "stay asleep" this time. Music to my ears. :)

When I woke up in the Neuro ICU things weren't the same. I noticed I couldn't see clearly out of my right eye...then I noticed that it wasn't just blurry, but a very large section was 'gone." I was told that the blindness may or may not be permanent, but that I would know more in 3-4 months.

Well, that time has passed and my vision has remained the same. I can see about 35% in my right eye, but the way I see it, I have an entire left eye, so I'm blessed. I'm lucky to be alive.

I don't see my vision loss as a "loss" at all. I look at all I've gained in the time since my first surgery and I know I'm a better woman because of it. Best of all, last weekend, I even had the chance to compete again, only this time I tucked away my "sprinter" mentality and registered for the 1000 Freestyle. I figured I'd come a long way since May and I had nothing to lose by trying something new and challenging. With last-minute efforts by awesome MN Masters staff (thanks Tina) and with an incredible amount of nerves and excitement, the gun went off.

Time changed me. I no longer felt strong and powerful, but I did feel blessed to be in the water. I thought back to my national and world championship swims and admit that this experience far surpassed all of them. I wasn't going for any titles, I hadn't trained a single lap, and I couldn't even go off of the starting blocks, but it was worth it. Tears filled my goggles while I swam--I was both grateful and awestruck. I felt each of the breakouts, turn after turn, lap after lap. The rhythm of my strokes hypnotized me. Everything about the water soothed me.

Thank you Minnesota Masters for being my backbone in an experience I couldn't have gotten through without your help. Thank you for the cheers after my 'comeback' swim...as foreign as it was to me, but most of all, I'm thankful to God for having the chance to do something I love with my friends once again. This is a starting block to the rest of my life~

~Jessica France