The Swimming Event Of Doom

When I was five years old, I joined the Carroll Aquatic Swim Team. I stuck with it because I loved being underwater, feeling the refreshing water all over and the sensation of touching the wall, finishing first hearing the people holler. When I got older I just didn’t have much care for it. So, I decided that I wanted to give up. Then, my mom told me that I should finish the season than I could determine, nevertheless, I did as I was told. At my last meet, my mom signed me up to swim the IM which is when you swim all four strokes. I was convinced that I couldn’t do it because I had never done it before. I told my mom that I couldn’t and I would fail, but my friend convinced me that I should do it. She told me that I would only disappoint people if I gave up; consequently, I swam and received first place. In conclusion, I ended up feeling the same exciting feeling as when I was five.

As I jumped into the water, I only had one thing on my mind: saving the victim. As I swam towards her I saw her head slip under. I called for a backboard before I dove beneath the surface to bring her head above the water. I

I heard the announcer on his microphone call you for ages 14 to 15 reps in 45 minutes I went down to the water to see what I really got myself into and surprisingly it was not too cold but it definitely woke me up. 20 minutes I heard him call out but then people started grouting around the water 10 minutes he started the race in knee-deep water the countdown has begun 5958 57 my heart beaded faster and faster my knees were shaking people were cheering 10 98 I put my hate hands out ready to dive 4321 and I went went reaching my arms as far as they can get kicking my feet with power. When I turn my head to breathe you could hear people's cheering and screaming around that the Bewley I went falling behind a kid as I was reading the sand I pulled myself as hard as I could to the beach and ran to the transition station my body Felt like rapper I was so cold as it was changing my shoes as best as I could grab some water and I was off rating my bike out on the road my mom screaming is all I heard passing my family with

“Well, I have a tale I will gladly tell.” said the swimmer”It’s sad but, joyous! Brave but, cowardly! Now gather ‘round and listen close for this is my tale!”

As if it were an instinct, my body launched itself into the freezing cold water. I snapped my arms quickly, like my coach had told me, swimming the stroke of butterfly. However, half way through the lap, my arms drew weary and began to drag slightly.

Once I was afraid of bodies of water since I did not know how to swim, now I am in love with any activity that has to do with water. I was raised in the Dominican Republic, a caribbean island, where it is customary to throw one’s child in the deep end of a pool so that their natural instinct of swimming is awakened. I was not the case. My mother pushed me to the water and amazingly enough I did not panic. Instead of panicking, I accepted my fate and sunk down. After about 30 seconds in my cousin dove in a took me out. Once out of the water, I began to panic. Consequently, I began crying, shaking and screaming at my mother for throwing me into the pool. Shortly after that my mother placed me in swimming classes and everything changed.

A practiced dive lets me cut through the water easily for a couple seconds I am gliding and listening to NSYNC (thanks to the new underwater speakers). The water will soon crash in my ears and I will actually have to use my body and brain to keep moving. The water distends before I break the surface with my arm and pointed hand. I finish the two-hundred free warm-up quickly alongside my friend and soon after taking a long drink of water, she puts all her weight on my

As she reached the end of the first 50m, she flip turned in the blink of an eye and pushed off the wall with her body as straight as a board. Katie was a fish in the pool. Adrenaline pumping through her body, she slipped each arm through the water every time. She imagined her hands with paddles and her feet with fins. Katie was in the moment. As she took the next breath, she could see nobody beside her or in front of her. Everybody was way back behind her. She felt like Dory swimming and singing. She kept swimming away from the other swimmers. She thought of the other swimmers as snails. Katie knew she was way out ahead of everybody.

When I was a freshman in high school, one of my good friends asked me if I would like to join the high school swim team. At the time, I was naive and did not do my research to see if I was physically or mentally capable of being on a semi-professional swim team. On the first day of practice, the coach barked at us to get in the water. I was unknowingly launched into 60 degrees and told to swim a “500”. Of course I did not know how to swim a “500”, nor did I know what a “500” was. I barely knew how to swim recreationally without doggy-paddling. I tried to follow the juniors and seniors in front of me. They appeared to be doing the “crawl” or as my coach called it “freestyle”. The hardest part about the way I was swimming was that water got

“For these first few practices, we’re just going to work on your swimming” the coach told us. I braced myself; swimming was not what I wanted to sign up for. Still, I had come this far, I had to at least give it a try; I jumped in the water with the rest of the team. We started doing sets. It soon became clear that I was, by far, the slowest person there; on each set the rest of the team had to wait for me to finish. What they saw as an easy 50 meters, I found extremely challenging. Not just physically, but mentally. I kept thinking to myself why am I here, I’m not good enough, I’m just humiliating myself. With all these thoughts running through my head, I began to quietly cry as I swam.

Or, rather, I had never tried to swim. I had this burning desire to enter the water and swim, but my fear of drowning was totally halting this whole process. But, finally, after about a year of fighting this internal battle, I won. I held my breath, jumped in, and before I knew it, I was swimming. Even at this young age, I understood how foolish it was for me to have been afraid to take this risk towards something I really wanted. From that day forward, I began to attack my fears, rather than cower from them.

I headed out to the water after setting up my towel. The shock of the frigid water took my breath away and I was momentarily stunned. However, I quickly recovered; finding my body adjusts rapidly to the cold water. I waded a few feet into it before leaning forward and swimming out. I didn't dare to go too far though, instead turning to swim parallel to the shore. I was comforted by the sounds of the ocean; the rhythmic pounding of the waves represses all of my worries. I looked into the cloudless cerulean blue sky and see the perfection of life. Just when I was starting to get tired and wanted to go back to the shore, I saw something.

The crash of the waves hitting the sand, the crisp scent of salt in the air, the soft grainy texture under the toes, the vast blue water stretching out in front looking endless, as I step into it ever so carefully. I descend into the refreshing water, with just a snorkel sticking above the brink. I am surrounded by neon colors of corals, fish and many other sea creatures. Encompassed by the sea life, I felt like they accepted me as one of their own as they whirled around me. The strategic way of swimming is new but life changing. Swimming amongst many other living species was difficult because you really couldn’t use your legs; if you did you could possibly disturb the life around you. Swimming without using your legs is quite difficult because you are then force to use just your arms to project yourself forward.

The next part of the training turned out to be the toughest. We were required to dive ten feet to the bottom of the pool and retrieve a ten pound weight. Once the weight was brought to the surface we were supposed to tread water for two minutes while keeping the weight above the water line. This appeared to be simple so I dived in, expecting an easy time. I had no trouble getting the weight to the surface and proceeded to tread water with a feeling of undoubtable success. But once again my anti-floating physical quality began to take effect. At one minute and thirty seconds I began to sink and within the next fifteen seconds my head was submerged and I was fighting for air. The water from the pool began flowing into my mouth with each desperate grasp for air; it felt as if an ocean were draining into my body. I remember hearing from under the water the instructor's muffled voice counting down the last ten seconds of the exercise. When it was all over I slowly made my way back to the pool's edge where I was informed by the two young girls that they had no difficulty

GO! My coach’s booming voice rings in my ears as I dive off the starting block. This is my 3rd 100 meter sprint, but it feels like number 50. The water feels especially heavy. Even though I’m breathing way too often, my lungs are gasping for air. I silently beg myself to kick faster, but then suddenly I am stopped. The rhythm of swimming has been interrupted. Another swimmer is in front of me, going slower than I would like. The splashes from her kicks blind me, and the swirling water makes it even harder to breath. I tap her feet once, twice, three times in the span of a few seconds. We are soon approaching the wall. I prepare to stop, thinking that she, like everyone else, will pause at the wall and let me go by. Instead, she flip turns and launches herself off the wall into another 50. I sigh, pause at the wall for a few seconds, launch off the wall yet again, only to be greeted by the familiar obstacle a few meters later.