Diana Nyad

Hillary

There have been plenty of times, as a woman lawyer and politician, when I felt like I was swimming with sharks. Diana Nyad actually did. In 2013, she became the first person to swim from Havana, Cuba, to Key West, Florida, without a protective cage. Along the way, she braved the treacherous currents of the Gulf Stream, the lethal box jellyfish, and the infamous oceanic whitetip shark—not to mention the exhaustion of swimming for nearly fifty-three hours straight.

Born in 1949 in New York City, Diana grew up in Florida, leaving the house before dawn to put in a few hours at the pool before school. She survived sexual abuse as a teenager, at the hands of the beloved swimming coach she regarded as a father figure. Despite her shame and hurt, she threw herself into swimming. When she was in high school, a teammate urged her to finish a race knowing she couldn’t have done it even a fingernail faster. Diana wrote in her autobiography, Find a Way, “I walked out of that locker room determined to tackle my future just that way, each day not a fingernail better. No regrets.”

Her extraordinary willpower led her to marathon swimming, which opened up the world. She swam in lakes, rivers, and oceans. She was the first person to swim from north to south across Lake Ontario, and in 1975, at twenty-five, she swam around Manhattan. And then, at twenty-eight years old, she made her first attempt to swim from Cuba to Florida, shore to shore. With a boatload of friends to help navigate, cheer her on, and keep watch for sharks, she headed out into eight-foot waves. Eventually, the wind and currents took her so far off course, she had to stop. Two years later, she retired from swimming.

Yet for the next three decades, she couldn’t shake the nagging idea of trying again. So, try again she did, at the age of sixty-one. And again later that year. And again. And again. She set out for her fifth try in 2013, at the age of sixty-four, with the help of a world-renowned jellyfish expert, a determined navigator, a team of shark divers, and a group of friends and family. She spent long hours fighting seasickness and the cumbersome suit designed to keep the jellyfish away, staying focused by counting strokes and going through a mental playlist of her favorite songs. And then, finally, she made it. When she staggered onto the beach, overcome with emotion and exhaustion, she managed to offer a few words of wisdom to the gathered spectators: “One: Never, ever give up. Two: You’re never too old to chase your dreams. Three: It looks like a solitary sport, but it’s a Team.”

There are lessons in Diana’s story for any woman—any person, really—who is navigating uncharted waters. Lessons about the power of taking risks and refusing to be defined by failure. Lessons about the incredible strength each of us possesses, even those of us who aren’t world-class athletes. Lessons not just about sports but about life—about the importance of not simply trying to reach the finish line but learning to enjoy the journey, with all its disappointments, setbacks, and suffering. I have always felt a kinship with Diana and her team because of their mantra, which they repeated before, during, and after each swim: “Onward!”