Descriptive Essay About Swimming

The YMCA strives to supply children with some of the most important developmental assets they need to succeed. My job as a swim instructor provides me the opportunity to be a role model; I personally make an impact on the lives of others. I make a difference in children’s lives.

The water was an icy shock. It made my muscles tighten as I began my eight lap warm up. Focusing on my arm movements, I struggle to keep up with the others in my lane.

It wasn’t like any other swim practice, no, not like any other I’d ever gone to. No one usually moved to Minot, North Dakota that was also in swimming, so when Emily Pitcher and her family moved to town and came to practice, it was quite a shock for everyone on the team. She moved from Colorado and she had 2 younger brothers and a younger sister as well. They seemed nice enough but there was something about Emily, who was my age, which seemed a bit off.

Almost an hour later, we pulled into our parking spot and walked to the golf course. My coach gathered all the information I needed. My teammates and I walked to a tree to set our stuff down and there we watched the bigger schools finish their races. I could tell it rained a lot since my feet sunk into the ground, and felt wet as I pulled them out. This made me look at the course where the other state participants were running on. The course was covered with moist looking mud and grass.

As the meet ended I started walking with Isaiah to the rest of the team, I was stopped by Coach as he said to me “That was one hell of a stunt you pulled out there, but the most important part is you finished the race and believed in yourself to finish the race.” I was in shock from what he said. I was voiceless. I had no clue on what to say.

Standing behind the starting block, I began to turn my head in both directions, eying out my competition. Standing behind lane four, I began to see who was seeded ahead of me. Seeing Her I began to shake girl standing behind lane three was Maya, my friend and the fastest swimmer on our team. Every chance I got to race her, I always messed up, one way or another.

During my collegiate years of school, I want to make them my personal growth period. My academic plan includes an architecture major that will allow me to become a suitable urban planner/architect. In the pool, I will be a dynamic swimmer, as well as a positive and encouraging teammate. As I constantly grow physically and mentally through my college swimming career, I will become well diverse in freestyle events from the 50 to the 1650. Being a college athlete, I know the responsibility and commitment in which is expected of me. I will pursue to honor myself, teammates, coaches, and the school I attend, both on and off the

Proposed by Joseph Campell in his book A Thousand Faces, there is a certain archetype that stories seem to follow. This framework is called the Hero's Journey. Elements of his theory are evident in The Swimmer, a short story written by John Cheever about the journey that Neddy Merrill takes to find his way back home. Campbell was studying myths when he came up with the theory, but it is applicable to most, if not all narratives today. The Swimmer is a short story where we see the protagonist, Neddy Merrill, go through the Hero's Journey.

This moment was what we had worked for our entire swimming careers. It was exhilarating. It felt like we were on top of the world. I felt as though everything below me was moving in slow motion but, I didn't mind because I wanted this feeling to last forever. I had the medal around my neck and I was smiling with pure joy.

It was a cold October day. The closer I came to the fogged up windows, the faster my heart would beat making my breath quicken. I step into the locker room to prepare for the pool. As soon as I step out the humidity hit me. I’ve been scoping out the competition for a few hours now and they are good. I say to my friend” I sure hope that I don’t have to race against them” . Then my name gets called and what do you know I have to go against a state winner and 6 more excellent swimmers. Suddenly my number gets called.”Swimmer's step up!”.My heart racing. Adrenalin pumping. Me trying to calm down so I can actually go. “ Swimmers ready?”...The whistle blows.

The first whistle blew and I knew it was time to get up on the starting block. It was blue with “BOISE Y SWIMTEAM” written in white. There were silver poles on the side to push off of for power. Second whistle and the pale older man with snow white hair saying “take your mark.” Next was the sound every swimmer hopes not to imagine too early for a false start. The time for the buzzer had come. The buzzer went off and all of us were off the blocks in one sudden push. This was my most important race today; the fifty freestyle. It is a short one but time is everything. As my stone like body hit the water, I felt a pile of relief. I knew that I would have to earn this race.

Okay, picture this it’s the beginning of summer, it was a little before eight a.m and I had just arrived at my first swim club practice at the pool. It was my first year and I had no idea what I was doing and I was a little nervous.

I felt as if my stomach was jabbed by punches, every time a new swim event went through the list in the meet. My legs were shaking as if an earthquake was arising. I was prepared to be destroyed and laughed at by the opposing team, and given a disgraceful look by my coaches. I always pictured myself as an outsider that didn’t belong on my high school swim team. After all, I was nowhere as good as the majority of the swimmers on my team, as I have only recently picked up the proper swimming techniques.

     "The Swimmer" by John Cheever describes Neddy Merril's "swim" home. Neddy is a husband and a father, he is also a drunk. The story encompasses about twenty years of his life of alcohol which ruined not only him but also his relationship with his family. One day after waking up with a hangover he drinks a little and decides to swim home. It is obvious he is a drunk because he is constantly searching for a drink on his swim home.

We passed all the security guards who all wished us good luck in our game. We finally arrived to our locker room where we all picked out a spot according to our position that we played. Our coach told us that all the defense and goalies should sit together and all the forwards should sit close. The second the team opened up their bags the raunchy stench of body odor filled the room. I set the stereo up and started playing the Rocky song that we would always listen to before every big game. The players were all dressed in our uniforms when the coach told us that he had a surprise for us. He yanked a box form the hallway and pulled out our new jerseys that he ordered for the great accomplishment. This reward reminded everyone of our unbelievable journey to the state game. Coach handed the jerseys out telling us the pride we should feel as we slip the sweater on. We had twenty minutes until the challenge when our coach ordered everyone to be quiet for his pre-game speech. He started out telling us how proud he was to be our coach and whatever happens in the next two hours he commends us. The rest of the speech was the strategy he wanted to use if we encounter any problems. In his final words the horn rang telling both the teams that it was time to take the ice.