Anna Levesque (00:00)
Okay. My guest today, Brett Mayer, is a lifelong educator, athlete, and environmental advocate whose career bridges the classroom and the river. With over two decades of teaching experience in public, day, and boarding schools, Brett integrates adventure and experiential learning into academic settings. A former Division I soccer player and accomplished whitewater kayaker, Brett has competed in elite races like the Green Race and participated in a few exploratory first descents.

His passion for paddling led him to complete a master’s thesis on the relationship between whitewater kayaking and environmental stewardship—a reflection of his deep belief in learning through experience. Brett has held teaching and coaching roles at the Landon School, Hotchkiss, Episcopal High School, and currently at Carolina Day School in Asheville, North Carolina, where he developed the Impact Asheville Project to connect students with real‑world problem solving.

Off the river and outside the classroom, Brett serves as the Policy Director for the American Canoe Association, working nationally to protect and expand access to the nation’s waterways. He was an early collaborator with Outdoor Alliance, helping unite the outdoor recreation community around public lands advocacy. Above all, he’s a father to three children—Ifa, Stokes, and River—and is committed to raising them with independence, resilience, and connection to the natural world.

Whether guiding students through academic inquiry, paddling whitewater, or advocating for public lands, Brett’s work is united by a single goal: inspiring people to live with purpose, courage, and connection to the places they love. Thanks for being here, Brett. I’m excited. So I always start with the same question: when I say discomfort zone, what does that mean to you?

Brett (02:05)
Thanks for having me. I’m thrilled to be here.

Brett (02:25)
There can be lots of definitions. The first thing that comes to mind is when I feel uncomfortable—I notice it in my body first. Usually it starts as a change in my breathing; it gets a little quicker. A number of different situations can bring it on. I actually get a little nervous public speaking, and I feel a bit of it right now. I’m just noticing it. Public speaking is one where I notice it.

Most of the time I feel pretty cool, calm, and relaxed. But in the whitewater world I’ve definitely been in situations where I’m like, okay, I’m in that discomfort zone for sure.

Anna (03:32)
When you feel it in your body—your breathing—what’s your number‑one strategy to calm down, relax, and focus?

Brett (03:44)
I try some quiet breath work. First I notice my breathing rate has increased. Then I go to positive self‑talk: You’ve been here before. There’s nothing really threatening about this situation. I take five deep inhales and long exhales. That usually re‑centers me.

I had a doozy a couple of years ago—speaking at a conference for the National Association of State Administrators, sharing some ACA policy work, in front of a thousand people. Right before I spoke, my throat got completely dry. Fight, flight, or freeze—and I felt frozen. They were calling my name and I remember thinking, I could just run. The urge to run off the stage was so strong.

Somehow I found my voice and settled in. I turned around, looked at the slide behind me, found someone in the audience—because that’s a strategy to dial in—and then it felt like my body went on autopilot and carried me through the moment. In reflection, I think I was so nervous because it was such an unknown audience—law administrators, not my normal crowd. I felt intimidated: What are they going to think? What if they think I don’t know what I’m talking about? We all have to overcome those narratives.

Anna (06:31)
Thanks for sharing. There’s so much in that story—the desire to run away. I’ve thought that too when presenting. It’s funny: on a river, sometimes you can take off and walk out—I’ve done that. One time on a Class V in the Pacific Northwest, I flipped in a smaller rapid and tapped my head lightly. I said, I’m out. Andrew was like, What are you doing? The car wasn’t that far and I just wasn’t into it that day.

In public speaking, that thought might come, but actually running off would be a huge act of self‑sabotage. You’ve made a commitment to be there.

Brett (08:05)
This is a fascinating conversation. My early experiences paddling were full of discomfort. I started at 22, after my soccer career. I always loved adventure sports. I saw someone cartwheel on the New River and thought, What is that? I’d been into surfing and went full‑bore into whitewater. Early on I was taking all the risks, making dumb choices.

In paddling you can get down a lot of stuff pretty quickly—you can use athletic ability to offset skill, especially on steep creeks. I paddled things like OBJ in Colorado and more. Then I went to paddle the Lower Blackwater in West Virginia. It’s challenging, but a notch down from the Upper B. It was winter—gray. I’ve noticed I’m sensitive to weather and conditions. I had this sensation: I don’t want to be here. It was overpowering. I took off. My buddies were like, Bro, what’s wrong with you? You’re fine.

I became curious: Why am I willing to take risks and accomplish big things, yet sometimes feel a deep Why? That question pushed me to write my master’s thesis on the lived experiences of whitewater kayakers. I interviewed six paddlers who had at least ten years on Class V—five‑ to six‑hour, in‑depth interviews—looking for common themes in the why and what changes over time paddling hard stuff.

In summary, people entered the sport for different reasons, but over time it became more about community and stewardship—taking care of people and places. That was different from the early narratives I resonated with as a young man—conquest and domination. I still resonated with stewardship. Sometimes the tension between those two impulses created my biggest wilderness discomfort moments.

Anna (12:54)
I believe you can be deeply connected to the river and run hard stuff. The conquest/domination narrative causes problems—especially for river health—but there’s another narrative: working with the river. Know the currents so well you place the boat and the blade precisely to navigate Class V with partnership, not domination.

Brett (14:15)
Totally. I wanted to shine a light on those narratives so the paddling community can make safer, more conscious choices—especially for beginners. In ACA safety curriculum we teach rescue, but we don’t always name the mental/psychological pieces of risk. It helps to understand where you are on the continuum of skill vs. challenge. Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi’s flow model is useful: when challenge is just beyond skill, you’re in the sweet spot. We need constant awareness of that balance.

Anna (15:53)
Absolutely. I was like you at 19—rafting to kayak more, wanting to get good fast. I took my first ACA Instructor Certification thinking I was hot stuff—Class IV on the New and Upper Gauley. After a year or two of paddling, my Instructor Trainer challenged me to catch tiny eddies with precision. I couldn’t. At the time there were three levels: flatwater, moving water, and whitewater. I got flatwater certified.

It lit a fire. I practiced. I realized I was missing technical skill and experience. I’m forever grateful to Mark Moore in DC for being real with me: you can teach flatwater, but teaching whitewater requires demo‑quality movement. That gift helped shape my entire path—including making the Canadian freestyle team later.

Boats are so good now that people get good fast, but that can create a safety/experience gap. Patience matters. Instead of ticking off rivers—Lower New, Lower Gauley, Upper Gauley—after one lap, work the hard moves in easy water.

Brett (19:04)
Getting down something is different from paddling with style or grace. I had a similar wake‑up with Tom McEwen on the Potomac during an instructor course: You can do it forward—can you do it backward? Catching eddies backward flummoxed me. Paddling with slalom paddlers opened a door—counting strokes, precision. It cleaned up my paddling and deepened my philosophy of relating to water.

Patience is huge—letting the experience unfold. In sports like soccer there’s a clear roadmap to the pinnacle. In paddling the pathway isn’t always clear, which can leave people grasping for where they are and where they’re headed. Without real feedback, that can lead to unfortunate outcomes.

Anna (21:38)
That’s why coaching and instruction matter—especially from professional instructors who do this as their profession. Even a single day with a pro brings depth, experience, and a critical eye.

Brett (21:44)
Yes… yeah.

Anna (22:08)
It’s easy to say, “I’ll just learn from my buddies.” Clubs are amazing and offer great learning spaces. And it’s also valuable to seek professional instruction when you’re stuck or something isn’t clicking, even if you’re doing all the “right” things.

Brett (22:38)
Yeah, 100%. If you love the sport and have a chance to do something that opens a door and expands your horizons, it can be game-changing for your paddling.

Anna (23:03)
Back to your story—focusing on one person in the audience is vision. In kayaking, if I’m nervous about a move, I laser-focus my eyes where I want to go. Presenting is similar: get outside yourself, connect, read the room, adjust—just like teaching on the river.

Brett (24:39)
Anxiety draws us inward into narratives that often aren’t real. Not every thought is true. Focusing outward pulls you back into what’s real.

Anna (25:01)
Totally—most of the time those thoughts aren’t true.

Brett (25:08)
With students, especially those who run anxious, they can get stuck in a story they can’t exit.

Anna (26:16)
I coach fact vs. story. Facts: what happened. Story: what we tell ourselves about it. Most suffering lives in the story. Example: you swim. Fact: flipped, pulled skirt, swam, got to shore. The rest—I’m a bad kayaker, everyone’s judging me—is story.

Brett (27:19)
Our brains create stories fast—after any shortcoming: missed shot, forgot something—I can’t get it together—and it spirals.

Anna (27:58)
Right. Brains try to keep us safe by comparing to the past. Leaving the comfort zone builds neuroplasticity. And shifting to positive self-talk—You’ve got this—is lifelong work.

Brett (28:31)
Yep. You must show up every day. It’s a practice, not a one-and-done course.

Anna (29:01)
I relate. Leadership feels comfortable for me. But when I’m a student, sharing can be scary because it’s not my usual audience—like your administrators talk.

Brett (30:15)
Exactly. In a classroom I’m fully comfortable—that’s my zone.

Anna (30:31)
Like paddling the same river a lot—you’re comfy even if it’s hard. Then a different Class V reminds you: this isn’t the same. The unknown triggers discomfort.

Brett (31:14)
In the unknown you need new skills. I came from low-volume steep creeking (Charlottesville/Nelson County). Translating to big volume is different. On the Watauga with faster-flow paddlers, things came so fast I felt myself unraveling. I’d say, I need an eddy—just a breath. Partners may think you’ve got it, but they’re not in your body.

Anna (33:17)
Listening to the body matters—especially as we age. In Chile this spring on the Upper Palguín (waterfalls), there was a 20-foot “easy” drop. My inner voice said, No today. It was within my skills, but the no was clear. Weeks later I had a herniated disc; running it could’ve worsened it. I’d already seal-launched into flatwater and felt my back wasn’t right. I’m grateful I walked—Blue helped carry my boat.

Brett (35:34)
“It’s a no today” resonates. Ego can be huge in adventure sports. The sport can become identity-centric: I’m a Class V paddler, so I should run this. But your body might disagree. Group check-ins—How’s everyone feeling?—matter and can change mid-run. I’ve done a lot of acceptance work: sometimes everything aligns; other times small things feel off. I’m feelings-based—if it doesn’t feel right, that has to be okay. And it’s okay if that means some partners don’t want to paddle with me.

Anna (37:57)
Totally. Kayaking is an individual and a team sport. Don’t take it personally.

Brett (38:16)
On harder stuff, the team aspect is huge—choices affect group safety.

Anna (38:31)
On stewardship: many paddlers live it, but lots of us (me included) haven’t been deeply involved. If rivers degrade, we can’t paddle. Is there a discomfort zone here? Any frustrations about involvement?

Brett (40:03)
People often think orgs like the American Canoe Association are giant and well-funded. It’s not true. They’re member-driven; individuals shape what gets done. Paddling is recreation, so it’s easy to assume someone else is handling stewardship. In reality, the collective voice matters.

Anna (41:12)
Right… mm‑hmm.

Brett (41:22)
A few basics of being a good steward start with how we behave in and around the river—at put‑ins, take‑outs, on the water. Simple things: pick up an extra bottle or piece of trash, park where you should, follow local rules.

People protect what they feel connected to. For me it started locally—Great Falls community, making sure access stayed protected. Being from DC, there were times access wasn’t easy, so I always felt how fragile it could be.

In the Southeast right now, post‑Helene, stewardship needs to be part of all our lives. There’s years of cleanup ahead, but also an opportunity to engage together. Folks like John Stamper at MountainTrue are doing incredible organizing. I was amazed how far things have come on the Lower Green and Section 9 of the French Broad. So many people are out there doing the work, and it’s bonding for all of us. Ultimately, the deeper you paddle, the more it becomes about connection—to people and place. We need the resource to have those memories.

Anna (44:16)
Yes—and we need public access.

Brett (44:20)
Exactly. Public access is huge. Our public lands were almost up for sale in a recent bill, and it was the collective voice—Outdoor Alliance and a big bipartisan outcry—that protected them. Whatever your politics, public land is a shared American gift—to hunt, fish, paddle, bike. Imagine not having it.

Anna (45:24)
I can imagine it. In parts of Canada, there’s very little public access. On the Rouge River (Quebec), where I learned to kayak, there’s no public access—you pay private entities to park/put in/take out. Same with the Ottawa River—all private. It’s wild. Those companies can make rules and fees that limit access. Here in the Southeast, public lands make my business possible—permits in Pisgah for the French Broad, etc. It’s a gift we must protect.

Brett (48:05)
And protecting it requires funding—staff, facilities, ramps. Public resources aren’t always available to build or maintain access. That’s why some states consider things like hiking/lands resource passes—to inject funds. It gets tricky: who benefits and where does the money go? Does the human‑powered community see the benefit, or just motorized users? The key is staying aware and open to conversation so access is maintained long‑term.

Anna (49:31)
These are classic discomfort zone moments—calling reps, engaging civically. Calling my reps is hard for me! I have to make myself do it.

Brett (49:58)
I encourage everyone: go experience it. Going to Capitol Hill with Outdoor Alliance—visiting congressional offices, saying, Here’s the bill; here’s what we support; here’s why—it’s empowering. Despite today’s political noise, the process is alive. It works when citizens show up. If people throw up their hands, that’s when it breaks. Grassroots voices—“I’m from Seneca Rocks, WV, and I care about this access point”—are incredibly effective versus corporate lobbyists. Authentic, local stories move the needle.

Anna (52:10)
Right—and don’t let fear or cynicism stop you. Even if your rep is from a different party, calls and conversations matter. Donate, engage, talk to people, support orgs protecting public lands. After Helene I caught myself comparing my efforts to others’. We can’t do it all. I’m grateful you take your skills to the Hill. I can contribute in different ways—we each bring something unique. The grassroots works when everyone leans into what lights them up.

Brett (53:40)
Yeah, totally. I’d love folks to hear this: in my ACA role I see myself as a facilitator. Real progress starts when someone emails, “We have an access issue on the Patuxent in Maryland—here’s what’s happening. Could we get a letter of support?” Someone with passion reaches out and leverages what the organization can do. No one person fixes it alone—grassroots first, then collaboration.

Anna (55:05)
Thanks for sharing all that. Do you have a question for me?

Brett (55:15)
Where did your interest in the discomfort zone come from? Why did this topic speak to you for a podcast?

Anna (55:42)
Great question. Kayaking and competing have been a long journey with self‑doubt and building confidence. I also know how alone we can feel in our heads. I wanted many voices—paddlers and beyond—showing different ways to move through discomfort and fear, with different language and strategies. I also wanted to dispel the myth that elite paddlers have no fear. Changing that conversation matters to me.

Brett (58:18)
I love it. It is a myth. There’s a spectrum—neurodiversity plays a role—and even high‑level athletes feel fear and use strategies. No shame. There are many valid ways to participate outside.

Anna (59:37)
Yes—and let’s cultivate that stewardship/connection narrative from the beginning. You can paddle Class V with awareness and consciousness.

Brett (1:00:00)
Totally. And I love the human stories—the why behind people’s journeys.

Anna (1:00:37)
Alright, rapid fire! What morning ritual sets you up for success?

Brett (1:00:50)
I make the bed—mine, and often my kids’ too. It’s the first win of the day and sets the tone.

Anna (1:01:40)
Non‑negotiable self‑care?

Brett (1:01:51)
Time outside every day—a quiet walk, trail run, or a few breaths with a moment of awe (a tree, a mushroom). Space to breathe and reflect.

Anna (1:03:02)
Favorite motivational book/talk/song—or quote?

Brett (1:03:17)
Edward Abbey—Desert Solitaire, The Monkey Wrench Gang. A quote I love: “Our journey here on earth, in the midst of tangible and mysterious things in themselves, is the most strange and daring of all adventures.” Also loved meeting Doug Peacock, the real‑life “Hayduke.”

Anna (1:04:44)
I’m reading Is the River Alive? (Robert Macfarlane) on river personhood—you might like it.

Brett (1:05:14)
I’ll check it out. Another favorite: Freya Matthews’ Re‑inhabiting Reality—on reciprocity with nature. The river has agency in the relationship; that perspective deepens connection and stewardship—an antidote to conquest narratives.

Anna (1:06:37)
What do people get wrong about you?

Brett (1:06:46)
I have a ton of energy and do many things; from the outside it can look scattered or insincere. In truth, I care deeply. Intent doesn’t always equal impact, so I keep working on that.

Anna (1:07:31)
Underdog or favored to win?

Brett (1:07:49)
Underdog. Blue‑collar background; first in family to attend college. That mindset drives me.

Anna (1:08:12)
Hard moves in easy water or flooding?

Brett (1:08:18)
Hard moves in easy water, especially these days—more honing and refining.

Anna (1:08:40)
One word that describes your comfort zone?

Brett (1:09:01)
Situational.

Anna (1:09:09)
Freedom through discipline, or “I do what I want”?

Brett (1:09:23)
I used to be “I do what I want.” Now it’s more freedom through discipline—with room for spontaneity. Adventure itself is “off the map,” and a little figure‑it‑out‑as‑you‑go belongs in the discomfort zone.

Anna (1:10:54)
One word for your legacy?

Brett (1:11:05)
Care—and gratitude for the gifts of my life.

Anna (1:11:31)
Beautiful. Anything else for listeners?

Brett (1:11:37)
I recently started a podcast—Following Waters (also heard as “Falling Waters” in this convo). If you’re into deep narrative stories about why people do what they do—in paddling, surfing, and beyond—give it a listen.

Anna (1:12:12)
Where can people tune in?

Brett (1:12:14)
Spotify, Amazon, and Apple Podcasts.

Anna (1:12:27)
Very cool. Thanks, Brett—this was a fun conversation. Let’s do it again.

Brett (1:12:36)
Thanks so much for having me on—this was awesome.

Anna (1:12:42)
Yeah.