Becoming a NARP: What They Don’t Tell You

Thanks to Julia-Grace Sanders for contributing this story. Julia-Grace Sanders is a student at the University of Washington studying journalism and human rights. In her free time she writes, drinks coffee, interns for the Women’s Action Committee and spends time outdoors in the beautiful Pacific Northwest. 

If you’re not familiar with the term “NARP,” it stands for “non-athletic regular person.” It’s used commonly by collegiate athletes in reference to peers not on a sports team. Although it’s not meant maliciously, it carries an air of separation. Many student-athletes pine after the life of a NARP – envisioning lots of sleep and a less-demanding schedule.

Since the age of 12, I’ve had one goal: to swim on scholarship for a Division 1 school.

Working towards this dream came at a price: daily doubles, attending school soggy and exhausted, exchanging the normal social-life of a teenager for one of pool decks, early-morning practices, and pre-final hotel room naps.

By no means did these sacrifices go unnoticed. From an early age, I was told that I was special, and that my talent would take me places. My peers stared wide-eyed when I told them how many times I practiced a week, or that I’d swam at a meet with Michael Phelps. I secretly enjoyed their surprise, and felt affirmed by the astonished reaction my commitment produced.

I’m going to be honest, I’ve never been the athlete that’s driven by pure love of the sport. I hated spending countless hours chasing the clock back and forth along the black line on the bottom of the pool. What I didn’t hate was the moment it all payed off and the feelings of accomplishment, pride, and value that accompanied a big win or a time drop.

When I got offered a scholarship at Texas Christian University, I’d never felt so validified in my worth. This incredible institution wanted me. My parents, my friends, my parents’ friends, my team and my coaches showered me with praise and congratulations. They told me how proud they were that my years of hard work were finally paying off.

What they didn’t tell me was what to do if it didn’t work out according to the plan.

Becoming a NARP

At the end of my sophomore year, my father grew ill and it became apparent that he’d likely pass away within the next year. Faced with this reality, I made the heart wrenching decision to transfer to a school closer to home and quit swimming in order to give myself time, space, and energy I would need to heal.

Here’s the thing about growing up as an athlete– often times, emotions aren’t exactly encouraged. The “suck it up” mentality is widely embraced, and the topic of mental health is pretty taboo. While this mantra is what developed the work ethic that helps me succeed today, it shouldn’t and doesn’t apply to the realm of mental and emotional well-being.

Although I knew stepping away for collegiate swimming was the best choice for me mentally and emotionally, I felt an immense amount of guilt for turning my back on the life I’d been working toward for fifteen years. Although my swimming career would have ended when I graduated anyway, it felt as though my two years of competing D1 were not enough to justify the time and effort I’d put in to get to that place. Most importantly, how was I supposed to feel affirmed in the midst of my grief when it felt as though I had failed not only my own potential but the expectations of those who loved me?

Almost six months later, I still don’t have all the answers, but I can share my experience in the hopes of starting a dialogue for those in similar situations.

Moving into a new identity and season of life is never easy. It not only involves embracing change, but grieving the loss of another time. The truth is that you can’t expect to radically change your life, for better or for worse, without moving through some sort of grief or loss.

I spent weeks pushing down the the wave of anxiety that rushed to my chest every time something reminded me of the life I had chosen to leave behind. Despite the fact that I was happier than I had been in years, I couldn’t shake the feeling that my experiences as an athlete suddenly evaporated when I chose another path.

In order to get to a place where I felt at peace with my new life, I had to come to terms with where I was at. I needed to mourn the loss of the life I left in order to embrace the joys of my new season.

Growing up in the world of swimming left me with some invaluable gifts. Most precious to me are the friendships, mentors and experiences that I gained through the teams I was apart of. The work-ethic, mental toughness, teamwork and leadership that swimming helped me develop will serve me in my life and career. Although the application of these traits to the real world came a little sooner than expected, it by no means invalidates the importance of my experiences.

With this knowledge, I choose to view my new season of life as a chance to build on these events, rather than start over. Becoming a NARP is an opportunity to move forward, reflect on what I’ve gained from my athletic career, and allow these experiences to help me succeed.