Just Glide

Just Glide

“You have to win this one. This is your race. Everything you have been doing for the past four months has lead you to this moment.”

There wasn't much I could say to that speech… Every time it’s the same. But still, I appreciated his motivation and support. I had known Bowman for about two years. His short skinny build was disguised by a fine grey mustache. He rode Harley Davidsons’, yet was the kindest most genuine man ever. He was admired by many.  

A cold wet stream of sweat began to fill my hands as the announcers called, “Event number 41, please start your way up to your blocks. Races will proceed shortly.” I lost all feeling in my right arm. A numbing sensation traveled throughout my body like waves, crashing vigorously against my aching muscles. I began to panic. That’s all I ever did… panic.

“Coach, I can’t do this. I am going to collapse...  there is no chance. It’s over, I have to give up. This is pointless. This isn’t my race, the hard work I put into this is clearly not enough. I can’t do this.”

“STOP!” he screamed shockingly. “You are rambling on about nonsense. All that matters is you try your best, and give this race everything you’ve got. I don’t care if you get first place… I want you to just do YOUR best.”

As Bowman was saying that, I realized how hard I truly had worked for this race. I practiced for at least two hours every day of the week. I constantly asked Bowman for guidance and help to perfect everything. Why am I worrying so much? Well, all anyone ever wanted was to make their coach happy and proud. I knew that if I swam today that would not happen. I craved his approval, sometimes only working hard to please him and not myself. I wanted so badly for Bowman to think highly of me and consider my skills excellent, that I would go to any lengths to do so.

“Event 41 to your starting blocks. Event 41 to your starting blocks. Event 41 to your starting blocks… Event 41….”

The words were filling my brain, clogging my thoughts, I was lost. The whistle blew that loud terrifying sound. Everyone knew what it meant…. There was no time to hesitate and wonder, I had to go right now. I cautiously gripped the block, as if I were to let go I would fall down a cliff.

“Swimmers take your mark”

It’s now or never.

“Beeeeeeeeeep”

That was it, I had no choice,  I had to swim.

I dove into the water feeling it hit my face, remembering to keep my legs straight and hold a tight streamline. It was for a moment I began to feel clarity, complete silence as I jumped from the block and was airborne for a second. I hit the water smoothly gliding through, feeling like a fish. And at this point there wasn’t anything else I could do. I forgot all about my panic attack and just decided to swim my gut out. Suddenly, I felt that I had been filled with the slightest bit of confidence, I began to feel 100 times stronger. This was a 100 breaststroke, four laps, meaning I had to sprint the entire race. I began to build my speed pulling harder and stronger, but it clearly wasn’t enough. I could see the girl in the lane next to me out of the corner of my eye. This was our second to last lap, and I had to do something to gain speed in order to make sure I beat her.

As I involuntarily lift my head from the water I could hear Bowman shouting.

Go… go… go… go….

That kind of shouting from him meant I had swimmers trailing closely behind. And that was all I needed to hear. I began to think the situation through. Either pace yourself and lose the race, or swim to the point where you are exhausted and win.  It was harsh, because I knew what had to be done. Pick one: win knowing you gave it literally everything you had, or lose and not feel tired.

This was a split second decision as my hand touched the wall and I started my last lap. Faster I  went, faster I pulled my arms down and stretched my legs out. I finally had realized what needed to be done to not only achieve my goals, but to prove to my coach my devotion to this sport. I began to approach the wall, at this point I knew to give it every little ounce of energy left in my body. I no longer saw the girl swimming next to me and I chose not to turn my head and look back.

“You have to win this one. This is your race. Everything you have been doing for the past four months has lead you to this moment.” echoed throughout my mind. Yet this time around, I took his words to heart and acknowledged his everlasting support.

This is what Bowman had trained me for, this is why he spent countless hours in the hot sun helping me, this is why he woke up at four a.m. to make practice, this is why I had to win.

My arms began to feel weak, but the wall was close I could not give up. So I glided through the water, every bit of movement brought me closer to the end. There was one sudden last push as I jolted into the wall, both hands grabbing on for dear life. I hadn't even lifted my head out of the water, but I could hear my heart pounding, each beat filled with exhaustion and anxiety. I whipped my head around, faster than anyone could imagine, and looked straight at Bowman. His arms were raised in triumph, his face was beaming with joy, and that is when I knew.