Personal Narrative: A Time At A Friends To Swim

There is a quote by Henry Ford, “Coming together is a beginning, keeping together is a process, working together is a success”. As a newcomer athlete on the Aquahawgs Swim Club, I was very cautious and weary of my behavior on the first day. Show up, do the practice, keep quiet, and go home. This mindset got me through the first 3 months and were by far the worst months of my entire athletic career. I was isolated, forced to create my own motivation and be my own critic. I hated the sport. For some reason that I still wonder about, I stayed, but enthusiasm was not present. I truly believed that I was a liability to the team because of my lack of performance in meets. That was truly my dark time. My saving light came in the form of 4, awkward,

During the swim season of my sophomore year I was at the peak of my swimming career. I was swimming great times and had a very successful season. Prior to the regional swim meet I was qualified and all I had to do was swim my qualifying times to advance to the 1A/2A state swim meet. Exactly one week before the regional meet I broke my foot in two places. I was heartbroken because for a swimmer this is what you train for all year long. I felt like all my hard work and hours in the pool were for nothing. I immediately began physical therapy and told my parents I wanted to try and swim the following Saturday at regionals. My foot was not in a cast, but in a boot. My physical therapist even told me there was no way I would be able to swim at regionals.

My parents tell me that I took to swimming like... a fish takes to water. It is a safe place where I can float free of worries. Driven by passion and dedication, I decided to begin swimming competitively. Competitive swimming requires an intense level of determination and discipline. Forcing myself to get out of my warm bed at 5:30 in the morning to put on a still-slightly-damp swimsuit and stand in 40-degree weather waiting for practice to start. Putting up with limited lane space and irritating swimmers who think they are faster. Making a conscious effort to work on my stroke form, turns, touches, and techniques. The water becomes a whirlpool of injuries, losses, wins, friendships, enemies, and sickness. The water becomes home.

“If at first you don’t succeed, try, try again.” Hearing the whistle, I immediately dove into the water. It was just a typical afternoon swim practice and the regional swim meet was almost here. We’ve been training and practicing all season for this event. Every afternoon after school we would go to the YMCA pool to practice. I’ve been working on long distance swimming, such as the freestyle 200 and 500. The night before the regional swim meet arrived, and I happened to get sick. I felt weak, stiff, and exhausted. There was no way I could do well in any event that was going to occur the next day. I took some medicine and had some tea to try and feel better. Nothing really helped. All there was to do was hope. The next day arrived… feeling sick

I am watching the Rio Olympics freestyle finals for women. My eyes are glued to the screen, and I can not seem to take them off. Of who? I do not know, but she is way ahead of the others. I wait until the race is over, and she wins. But, who is she?

I am the most competitive person you will ever meet. I hate to lose. In everything I do, from swim meets, to track meets, to academic competitions, my goal and my intent is to win. I want to win! Though I don’t necessarily have the great ability to perform like a winner. I’ve had to accept, that maybe, just maybe, I can’t excel at everything. One night, after a particularly devastating swim meet, I sat down and had to think about why I had lost. Maybe my goggles were on too tight! Yes! That had to be it. Or maybe my competitor cheated and just didn’t get caught! All these thoughts were racing through my head, yet the most obvious one never seemed to cross it. Maybe, after all, I just wasn’t as good as he was. No, that wasn’t possible! He and I looked exactly alike! We acted the same! We had nearly the same techniques!

It was sometime around 6:00 p.m. on a Thursday night in the middle of January 2016. There was a swim meet going on and it was just about to start. The teams were warming up and getting ready for the meet that was due to start in the coming hour. I was warmed up and concentrating on the race listening to music in my newly acquired platinum studio beats. The music was loud and the nerves were setting as I walked into the locker room with my friend and teammate. As we passed I said good luck to our teammate who I was racing against in the 200 free style. Then out of know were he pulled my friend to the side and whispered something in his ear. I didn’t hear what was said as I had continued to walk. My friend came over to me and I asked what he had said and he told me. He told me

“Run, run, run!” I yelled to my teammate as we ran on our tippy toes to get to the tents. It was freezing outside, so we bundled up in jackets and blankets as soon as we sat down. I;ve been swimming most of my life, but this was one of my first year round swim meets. I had just swam a 50 free (freestyle) and only had one event lift…..the 500 meter freestyle. I was nervous and I couldn’t eat, so I went to swim on an empty stomach.

It all began at East Ridge high, I was a junior at the time just trying to get by and ready for school to end long before it even started. The strange things began happening randomly, the first occurrence was in my swim class, I had always preferred swimming, the feeling of the water running across my skin and the waves created a rythmic motion that was very calming; I was super pysched they offered it as an alternative to gym class. One day during swim class I was practicing a technique called the butterfly stroke. I started slow and as I got the hang of it my speed built thats when it started to happen, with every stroke of my arms the water came to life and started creating waves that grew larger I hadn't notice until I had reached the wall

The skies were clear and the waters were calm when we dove into the warm waters of the Gulf. We should’ve stopped at the surf shop; it would’ve avoided this whole mess. The strong currents are tossing my body around like a rag doll. I’m trying to keep my eyes on Taylor’s bright red hair, because at this point, losing Taylor means I have zero chances of survival, and no friend to work with. The waves finally seem to have calmed down enough for me to swim to the surface to get some much-needed air. I’m looking for a certain redhead, but I can’t find her. I’m starting to panic.

“Hannah hurry up, by the time we get there it will be adult swim” I yelled up stairs.

Riding a battery operated ride on jeep, while holding on to the leash of a dog, is a tremendous way to ramp yourself into a pool. It happened when I was 6 years old, and I thought I was going to be the next great stuntmen like Evel Knievel. On a hot summer 2007 July day where you could smell fresh cut grass and the sun was shining like a new Lonnie from the bank. I was at my grandparents above ground pool at their old house on Shell and Cambie road. It wasn't just those average size rubber above ground pools that you can buy from Walmart. It was a huge hand-built pool that was half the size of a hockey rink that my grandpa had built for the whole family to enjoy, and to get out of the hot summer sun. The pool was about 30ft deep and was connected to a big long deck, almost as long as the red carpet that was

When I first learned how to swim, I was 5 years old. My family and I were outside by the pool and I was on a float in the water. My brother and dad were in the water while my mom and sister were tanning on the deck. My mom got hot and started to get in the water. My dad came behind me and flipped me. I really didn't know how to swim so i was drowning. I was trying to push myself up when my mom grabbed me and picked me up. I went to go lay down by my mom when my dad picked me up again. My dad started to fake throw me in. My mom, brother, and sister all went inside. When they got insdie, my dad grabbed me and threw me in again. I thought I was gonna die but then I started to doggy pattel. My mom came outside and started to freak out. I told

13 years. It has been 13 years since I first plunged into the pool to begin my first lesson. I was small, skinny, and shy at the time, not willing to talk to people. I had tried other sports; baseball, soccer, basketball, but I found those to difficult. My dad first brought me to a pool, to splash around in the play area. But I soon found myself wanting to go the deeper parts where the whirlpool and the lazy river were. So I began group lessons on the basics on how to swim, most of the other participants were older than me so I did not make conversation with them. After I finished a couple of lessons and learned how to swim the most basic two strokes; freestyle and breaststroke, I joined a summer team, the Bradley Farm Wave. I was not very

I was tired, sore, angry, and anxious. As thoughts ran through our heads we slowly lost hope in ourselves. This was our final time to shine, but could we live up to the expectation. I never thought that we were going to get the state cut.