Silken Laumann - Unsinkable

To most Canadians, Im the single sculler whose leg was torn open in a boating accident in the spring of 1992, but who then went on to win a bronze medal at the Summer Olympics. The miracle of my healingcalf muscles stripped to the bone, right ankle brokenfollowed by my triumph at Barcelona only ten weeks later made headlines around the globe.

When I was invited to tell my story to Canadian and international audiences, I witnessed how my honesty about my moments of fear, as well as my moments of courage, touched people. Some even wrote to tell me that Id changed their lives by helping them connect to their own inner courage, opening new doors of possibility. I also came to realize through their stories that the motivational techniques I had used to fuel my physical recoverysetting goals, visualizing desired results, transforming dreams into realityworked equally well for various mental and emotional challenges. This was incredibly rewarding. I became passionate about inspiring others, and that became my new calling.

After one keynote speech in Toronto, a woman kept pressing me. But what made you so determined? Why did you push yourself beyond reason in Barcelona? Why didnt you give up with everything stacked against you? Her questions reverberated inside me. I began to realize I was assuring others that they could survive anything, that they were infinitely powerful, while holding back answers that were far deeper than I was comfortable sharing. I was also experiencing periods of fury and of self-loathing that made me feel increasingly inauthentic as a motivational speaker. I knew that some truth I had spent a lifetime refusing to acknowledge was beginning to surface. I knew that I was no longer telling my whole story.

When I realized these unresolved emotions were hurting my childrenthe two people I loved most in the worldI decided to enter therapy. Gradually, I came to understand that recovering from my accident and winning three Olympic medals owed as much to surviving a difficult childhood as to my tough Olympic training. I also learned that I could not live fully in the present until I had taken a clear-eyed journey into my past.

In 2008, after almost seven years of living on my own, I met David Patchell-Evans, the founder of GoodLife Fitness, with whom I fell madly and deeply in love. The story of how we managed to overcome upheavals to blend our two families, including four children and assorted pets, into one big life rivals the dramas you might see on reality TV. Patchs profoundly autistic teenaged daughter, Kilee, taught me to reach down into reserves of patience I never knew I possessed. Though her tantrums could sometimes reduce me to screams, her unselfconscious joy could make my heart sing.

My life is good as it is, so why do I need to write a book that reveals so much of myself, and that could hurt or offend those I love? Why do I have to tear down the heroic public figure that has served me so well for so long? I gave myself every excuse for avoiding this book, but eventually I came to a place where not writing it became a bigger obstacle than writing it. The story raged inside me. I needed to let it out so I could face myselfmy authentic selfwith the acknowledgment: Yes, this is who I am.

I also felt that I owed the whole truth to the many people who have followed my dual careers because they believed in me. How could I explain my seemingly bulletproof character without going deeper into the messy, miserable bits that still hurt and confuse me, but that inform whatever wisdom I possess? How could I help others find their inner courage while holding back the real story of the self-doubt that continued to plague me?

People are drawn to truth. When I speak from a place of authenticity, my audience hears me: This I know. Sometimes they hear things I havent even said, which is one of the remarkable gifts of public speaking: This I also know. People will tell you what you arent yet sufficiently empowered to say. They feel the direction you want to go. They pick up on your facial expressions and those telltale signs of emotion that speak louder than words. They find you out.

Even though Im terrified to be so open about my journey, I have a deep faith in peoples ability to hear with their hearts. I also believe that life is a beautiful, challenging, terrible and exhilarating experience, in which we must strive to realize our greatest potential no matter how forbidding that path.

All of us see the world through our own lenses. My lens has changed profoundly over the past ten years, so that everything now looks different to me. I now see how vulnerable we all are. And how interconnected.

Thats why I wish to share my story...