February: The Litmus Test for Resilience

I was listening to a professor's lecture and something struck a chord. It lingered in my mind for weeks. The professor discussed the link between resilience and success, two concepts deeply intertwined with my work. While we train athletes to row and program workouts, at the heart of it all, I feel like I am mastering the art of training resilience. And to me, February is the ultimate litmus test for resilience.

February is an unremarkable month. The weather is bleak, the excitement of January's resolutions has faded, and the only holiday lacks originality. It's a month that can be overlooked. But here's what's interesting: I think the month defines champions. If not for February—the hard, messy, overlooked month—the national championships in May and June would never see their glory. It is what happens in February that makes all the difference.

Dr. Becky (whose last name I wish I had caught) posed a profound question: What does resilience feel like? We talk about it as a positive trait, yet it does not feel positive when we are actively being resilient. It can be painful and deeply frustrating. This frustration stems from what the professor called the "learning space." Imagine two camps: knowing and not knowing. The space between them—the learning space—is agonizing, especially for those used to competence and mastery. That space, where you don't know what you don't know, feels unbearable. And when you're in it, the temptation to exit is strong.

But here's the empowering realization: frustration is one universal feeling tied to the learning space, and February is the winner regarding frustrating months. It is a month-long salad of wins and losses, steps forward and backward, and days of confidence followed by days of doubt. But knowing that frustration is the signal of growth changes the game. If we learn to love and embrace frustration, that choice alone can make all the difference. The key to resilience and success is increasing your ability to tolerate this space—to reside in discomfort for extended periods without quitting. If we can learn to love frustration, we can learn to love February.

Now, let's tie this to learning a new sport like rowing. Many of our athletes come from strong athletic backgrounds—swimming, soccer, volleyball, and basketball. They are used to mastery. But when they take on rowing, they enter the learning space for much longer than anticipated. It can take weeks, months, or even years to figure it out. And because our team holds each other accountable, exiting is not an option. So, together, we sit in frustration. We don't bail. We don't blame. We don't walk away. We remain suspended in the unknown, asking each other for patience and trust.

Success isn't about how quickly we "get there" because, in truth, there is no fixed destination. Success belongs to the team willing to pursue mastery, a team willing to embrace the frustration and understand that our ability to hold time under tension is proof of progress. If frustration is the leading indicator of growth, we are precisely where we need to be.

So, we are here—no exit lanes. No shortcuts. It's just a team learning to thrive between knowing and not knowing.

And if you're curious about what that looks like, visit us on Lake Merced. Our coaches' launches will show you around, and you can witness firsthand the glorious, frustrating, transformative learning space in action.

A.M.D.G. We are SI