Learning to BREATHE
Back to Basics: Learning how to BREATHE Breathing is something we do tens of thousands of times…
When Peak Performance Goes Wrong:
I was sitting in A&E, wet and dishevelled. My cracked bike helmet was on the seat beside me, a souvenir from my recent close encounter with the A286. I was holding my left wrist with my right hand, trying to will the excruciating pain in my left shoulder to ease off and leave me alone.
It was Thursday 30th May 2025; 18 months before Vicki Anstey and I attempt to set a new fastest time for a female pair to row across the Atlantic. It was also two weeks before our first fitness tests with the University of Kent, which was supposed to be the launch pad for our campaign as Team gROW.
The testing was just a baseline, but I wanted to turn up in good shape. Ditching my car in favour of my road bike felt like a way to accelerate progress.. until it rained unexpectedly, and I slipped.
As I sat there in the waiting room, it all felt a bit surreal (but that may have been a minor concussion).
A thousand thoughts were swimming around my brain.. how long til I can row again? How will my team
compete in the Welsh Nationals next weekend? How will we get our gROW training hours in if I can’t train this summer? How will we get sponsorship when I have an arm in a sling? Will Vicki ever forgive me?
The CT scan came back clear, phew. The X-ray, however, showed a clear break in my left clavicle, aka my collarbone. The tired A&E staff were changing shifts. They handed me a sling and told me to rest it completely for 3-4 weeks (no driving). They warned me to avoid heavy lifting for 12 weeks. Rowing racing? Mmm.. not for 4-6 months.. They went home.
I got a lift home, and cried. My rowing season was over. As for Team gROW? Our Atlantic campaign is all about how to achieve optimal performance, and I’d just taken a flying leap backwards.
That was almost 5 weeks ago, and the path towards recovery has not been entirely smooth. But, as I’ve come to appreciate, when you do hard things, and set ambitious goals, there will always be setbacks.
Team gROW is not just about ambition to become the best versions of ourselves, it’s about the reality of how we get there – salt sores, warts, fractures, and all.
This isn’t the physical preparation I wanted, but I have had an opportunity to flex my mental resilience muscles, listen to podcasts on long walks, and reflect on what this setback can teach us about overcoming obstacles.
Here are 5 lessons which I will take away:
The danger with an injury is not in week one, when the pain is overwhelming, but a week or so later, when a reduction in pain intensity can trick you into thinking you’re back to normal. I’ve always been an optimist when it comes to injuries, testing the boundaries until pain tells me not to. This felt like an effective approach.. until it wasn’t. I was convinced I was healing well. The sound of my bone snapping like broccoli two weeks into my recovery was the sign to listen a little more carefully to the doctors’ advice. The sling went back on. The X-ray confirmed a backward step. I learned my lesson.
When we get news that we don’t want to hear there is always a temptation to tell ourselves “It’ll be OK”. Maintaining a positive outlook is one thing, ostrich-like denial is another. Resilience doesn’t come from distracting ourselves or failing to accept a change in circumstances. We need to recognise the setbacks that deserve our attention, so that we can recalibrate goals and expectations when needed.
“I can do it!” I huffed when my partner offered to cut up my food, open/close doors, tie my shoelaces, or to help me get dressed. For anyone labelled ‘independent’ from childhood, asking for help does not come naturally. My reflex reaction was to reject help – frequently before realising that I was, in fact, incapable. The turning point was pinning up my hair. I just couldn’t do it. (It turned out he wasn’t very good at it either, but it was quite entertaining watching him try.)
As I got better at saying “Yes, please” and “Thank you so much!”, I remembered that we are hard-wired to feel good when we help someone. By rejecting offers of support, I was preventing my potertial helpers from enjoying that benefit. Acts of kindness can release oxytocin, the hormone of connection. Two weeks later, when my parents asked if I’d like them to come and visit for a few days, to help out, I took a deep breath: “Yes, please, that would be so helpful” I said, and I meant it.
You can’t cross an ocean, or achieve any major ambition, without a support team. To get to the start line in the best possible shape, we are going to need a whole lot of help – financial support, an epic boat, food, clothing, transport, accommodation, expertise… We are going to have to get very good at asking for, and accepting help. (Did I mention, by the way, that Team gROW can offer some very exciting sponsorship opportunities?)
Performance guru, Steve Magness, highlighted a study where regular runners and triathletes were made to take 2 weeks off. No exercise. No cross-training. Just rest. The result? Big spikes in feelings of depression, anger, tension and confusion; a total shift in emotional wellbeing (Leite et al 2014).
For team sport athletes I suspect the impacts could be even greater: it’s not just the absence of routine, the lack of endorphins or training FOMO, it’s also that you miss your community, and feel miserable if you let the team down. If you don’t rehearse rest, it can in fact make you anxious.
I work with senior leaders all the time for whom ‘days off’ mean taking their laptop home, and switching on after hours. They wonder why they don’t sleep well. When we don’t devote time to recovery, we stay in a constant state of ‘fight or flight’; tired, but wired. A week after my injury, after a week of not doing much, my resting heart rate dropped 10 beats per minute. Like most keen amateur athletes, I rarely take rest days. I don’t recommend 4 weeks of enforced rest to anyone, but going forward, I’m going to practice taking 1 rest day per week. We’re not going to be able to row for 45 days without resting hard; it’s time to start practicing.
Our brains are prediction machines, wired to seek out control. When we don’t have it, uncertainty fuels ruminative cycles of ‘what ifs’. After the bone-crunching-like-broccoli incident, I knew I’d had a setback, but I didn’t know how bad. Even after an X-ray, the doctors wouldn’t say whether or not I needed surgery “Maybe, let’s wait and see”. I struggled with not knowing. The thing that helped me most was talking to my team. Both fellow rower, Vicki, and Performance Coach, Borja, reassured me that it was going to be OK. “We have time. We don’t need to have a training plan in place yet; just rest.” There was no certainty about exactly when and how, but I was buoyed by their certainty: we will be ready to race in December 2026.
If you’re agonising over a problem that you can’t solve, share it. You may feel as though you have to know the answer, but accepting that sometimes, no-one knows, might allay that need for control. Instead, focus on what you can control. While unable to drive, I have been waking up early every morning and going for a long walk. The daily routine has given me a sense of control, and confidence. It may not be much in terms of fitness, but it’s something. Daily routines can be powerful building blocks of performance.
Cognitive reframing means looking at a situation which is getting you down with a different lens. I’ve had a bit of practice when it comes to injuries. Seven years ago I fell off a cliff and broke my ankle. It’s one of the best things that has ever happened to me. It was my catalyst to slow down, to prioritise sleep, and to start my business.
To be honest I’m not at the point of celebrating this injury just yet (!), but I have been practicing focusing on the upsides:
One of my fears was that Vicki had to start training alone, when we’re supposed to be a team. She admitted not wanting to share her training outputs with me, in case it made me feel low. We were both worrying – unnecessarily – about what our team mate felt. Cognitive reframing can mean recognising which of our thoughts are not valid, and replacing them with more helpful ones.
Vicki and I are on this mission together – we will be literally in the same boat – but right now we are on different journeys.
Just because you are on the same team as someone, it doesn’t mean they will be de-railed by your obstacles. Their achievements do not in any way diminish yours. I want to celebrate Vicki’s successes, just as I know she will want to celebrate mine when they come.
I started driving again today.. so this first little window of walking and reflection is over, but I am grateful to have had this opportunity to gROW.
Dr. Sophie Bostock is a leading sleep scientist, TEDx speaker, and TV expert with a PhD in health psychology. She has represented Great Britain in coastal rowing, canoed 2,000 km from Canada to Alaska, and rowed around Great Britain for the British Heart Foundation. Her pioneering work explores the link between sleep, stress, and peak performance — making her a unique force in the world of endurance sport.
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