My First Blackout
Well, it finally happened—my first blackout in freediving, competition or otherwise. I knew going into my warm-up that things were going to feel off. Florida’s been unseasonably cold, and I’ve always struggled with managing temperature. Losing weight recently has only made staying warm harder, and in hindsight, I really should’ve planned for a 5mm suit. Lesson learned.
This competition was also the first time I had a solid goal—a benchmark I was determined to achieve. In all my previous performances, it was always about the experience, about the process. But this time, I was focused on the number. Pair that with nerves from not having competed in a pool competition since 2018, and my warm-up ended up being all over the place. By the time I started my breath-hold, I was already shivering.
The blackout itself was surreal. I don’t remember it happening. My body continued to go through the motions I had trained for over countless hours—even giving signals I have no recollection of hearing. It was a humbling moment that reminded me how powerful muscle memory and training are, but also how quickly things can go wrong.
As I was coming back around, the nurse, Grace, asked, “Do you know where you are?” To which I replied, “Well… Apparently at a competition blacking out.” Humor in that moment helped lighten the weight of the experience, reminding me not to take myself too seriously—even when I was disappointed.
Thankfully, everything went smoothly thanks to an incredible safety team. I came out of it quickly and felt fine physically, but emotionally, I was disappointed. I had spent months training for this performance, only to blackout long before reaching a time I’d achieved countless times in practice. I replayed every detail in my head, wondering what I should’ve done differently.
Looking back, I know the cold, stress, and my hyper-focus on the goal all played a part. I should’ve listened to my body and saved that big attempt for another day. Instead, I pushed too hard on Day 1, leaving myself unrecovered and unprepared for Day 2. Sometimes, the best decision is to call the dive and live to try again.
If there’s one thing freediving teaches us, it’s resilience. The sport has a way of keeping you honest—it forces you to respect the process, adapt to challenges, and recognize when to step back.
And then there’s the community. The Freediving Family rallied around me, offering support and encouragement. Every single one of them reminded me that the numbers I was chasing were impressive on their own and that even attempting them was something to be proud of. They extended invitations to private events, cheering me on to try again—something I absolutely will.
Sharing this story matters because it highlights what freediving is truly about: growth, not perfection. Our dives should challenge us, not just be about chasing a number. At the end of the day, it’s the lessons we learn and the connections we make that matter most.
So, to every freediver reading this: Remember to listen to your body, respect the process, and lean on the incredible community around you. And don’t forget—no one celebrates harder than the Freediving Family at the end of a competition!
Onward and upward from here—one breath at a time.