Strong Feeds Strong by Ellie Cole

The best things in life are unexpected. Sometimes these curveballs can blindside us. Sometimes they can teach us a beautiful lesson about our own inner-strength.  

 My twin and I were born as textbook babies. 5pm on a Thursday night, ten fingers, ten toes and two legs! Our parents were loving and planned for us to live a happy and healthy life.

That plan was put on hold when I was diagnosed with cancer three years later and had my leg taken away. That wasn’t part of their plan. They had to learn to expect the unexpected, to learn that sometimes plans change. 

 As soon as I was old enough, my plan was to become the best Paralympic swimmer in the world. I trained day in, day out. I was told that I wouldn’t be any good – I had a leg missing after all. 

 Fast forward to today!

It has been almost four years now since I was sitting in a gloomy back room of the Australian Institute of Sport thinking that I didn’t belong there. The AIS was a centre of excellence for an athlete; a place where the strong came to get stronger. Instead I was physically and mentally weak. I was at the three month mark post my double shoulder reconstruction and the cards weren’t falling my way. This wasn’t part of my plan. 

 I  felt like I was kidding myself when I was accepted to join the Australian swim team on an intensive week of training. Why? I wasn’t even back in the pool whilst my team-mates looked exactly how I used to feel; strong, powerful, unstoppable, unbroken. 

I sat there, desperately trying to hold on to what I once was and trying keep my head above water, literally. With both arms in slings, I couldn’t even look at the pool without remembering the cold, raw and painful experiences I had endured throughout my injuries. 

A year earlier a surgeon told me that I would never swim competitively again. A year before that I was standing on the gold medal podium at the London 2012 Games. How did this even happen? In that moment, it dawned on me that my next step would be to sign on the dotted line at the bottom of my retirement papers. I was done. 

24hours later, and mid-way through camp, we waited for our guest speaker to arrive. I heard the door open and looked up to see my childhood hero walk through the door. Twelve years after winning gold, Petria Thomas still walked with an air of confidence. Everyone, including me, knew that Petria was plagued with three shoulder reconstructions throughout her swimming career. For over an hour, Petria told us of her journey back to the pool, her display of inner strength and her commitment to make it through the dark. I hung on to every word including one important piece of information that I had never known. 

Petria won Olympic gold only one year after her shoulders were reconstructed. One year of hard work and a mountain of inner strength was all that it took. It was what I needed to hear and all of a sudden, I was back.  

In that room, Petria taught me what  inner strength is all about; knowing that you are good enough, brave enough, and strong enough to deal with any curveball that life may throw. 

Life is a journey and at every turn, our courage will be tested. In that moment, I chose hard work and I chose strength and all of a sudden, once again my plans had changed. 

Two years later I was standing back in a place where I never thought I would stand again: on the medal podium in Rio, celebrating two gold, three silver and a bronze medal. Not bad for a girl who was ready to give up.

One Week To Go by Ellie Cole

Rio is now getting a bit too close for comfort.

The Australian Paralympic Swim Team have now been training in the United States for the last ten days. As an athlete, ten days in a hotel can make you a little stir-crazy. Having to cope with jetlag, pre-competition nerves and the extra amount of energy from taper can be difficult at the best of times. You would expect tension, short fuses and irrationality. You don’t see or feel these reactions when you are training in such a committed and uplifting team. We are all working towards a common goal – to perfect the things that can’t be perfected. We collectively want to make Australia proud of its National Swim Team.

We all know that the Olympic Games is the predecessor to the Paralympic Games. Its surreal to watch the Olympics beforehand, knowing that we will be walking into the very same stadium in just six weeks time.

Like all other Paralympians, I found myself wondering what the next few weeks of training would bring.  Would we be ready in time? There is never enough time to prepare – time is the enemy. There are just too many things to make perfect. Still, we all seem to chase it down anyway.

Results, results, results. That’s what it all comes down to.

Over our swimming career we are taught to focus on the process rather than the results that we are ultimately chasing. We hear the word ‘process’ so often that sometimes we mumble it in our sleep. This tactic has been designed to keep us grounded before we perform. If we start thinking about the results too much we can find ourselves consumed by fear and the sensation of being overwhelmed. We can start letting doubtful thoughts creep into our minds that serve no purpose but to let the game get the better of us.

There is a catch though -we aren’t human if we don’t think about winning. We can’t afford to be thinking about this behind the blocks. Instead, we have to practice the ability to completely trust our body to deliver the performance. We spend all that time being coached, coached, coached. But behind the blocks we have to let go of that and trust that we will act on instinct.

When it comes down to it, the thing that really matters to an athlete is:

Did I give it everything?

This doesn’t just apply to race day, but in every little decision that you have made before that moment.

This generally puts athletes into two different camps when they walk away from their Games experience.

1.     I did everything that I could.

2.     I messed up. I wasted my shot.

Im walking away from Rio in the first camp.



The Countdown by Ellie Cole

Its hard to believe its almost here. We are nearing just 40 days until the Opening Ceremony for the Rio 2016 Paralympic Games. 

For those of you that follow the Olympic and Paralympic swimmers on Instagram, we all seem to be about countdowns. Every morning we wake up before the sun does and we turn off our alarm. We either feel one of two things in that moment: fear or excitement. Fear that the Games have become one day closer than they were before we went to sleep. We can also feel excitement for the same reason. Sometimes its both. Sometimes we just want to go back to sleep. Im sure you know what that feels like. 

Either way, regardless of what we are feeling its time to get out of bed. It doesn't matter how cold it is outside or how much our bodies are hurting, the show must go on. 

The drive to the pool is always an interesting one. It takes me 20 minutes to drive to training. As the Games are approaching us in a speed that doesn't seem realistic, I usually think about Rio. What will happen? What will I be feeling when I stand up on the blocks? The nerves usually hit me then and I have to remember to keep breathing. I am driving a car after all. Not the most ideal time to pass out. 

But you always wonder how you will walk away from a Paralympic Games. Will you be happy with your performances? Will you be disappointed and always carry around this deep regret? Either way, you can walk away knowing that you were amongst the best in the world at something. Thats pretty cool. 

I always try walk into training with a big smile on my face. My enthusiasm usually annoys some of the swimmers (usually the ones that are napping in the pathway) but it puts me in a good mood. Sometimes that smile that I walk in with can quickly turn to horror as I read the session on the white board. My coach, Nathan Doyle, always tells me 'You'll be right. This will be good for you' when he sees this look on my face. As much as I hate to agree, he's usually right. 

Training over the years has taught me one thing: there is no point holding back. It is a waste of time to hold yourself back if you woke up at 4am and dove into a cold pool. That was already hard enough, you might as well make the most of it while you're in there.  

This morning was a pretty difficult set. We swam over three kilometres of pull at different paces for our main set. After the pull set, Coach Doyle told us to put our paddles on for a sprint set. 

I was thinking: 'He's joking, right? How am I meant to sprint when I can't even feel my arms?!'. 

I voiced this to Coach Doyle, who of course, was not joking. Not even in the slightest bit. He told me 'You'll be right. This will be good for you'. He was right, of course. 

Anyway, I better go and eat some food. Its time to replenish those arms for another training session tonight.

If you have any questions or want to share any photos, you are more than welcome to hit me up on Instagram : @elliecoleswim