I was 8 years old when I realized for the first time what it was that I truly wanted to accomplish. My desire was to swim even better than everyone else on the team. The first swim meet of the season had finished and all I could think about was how cool all of the older kids were, It was very evident to everyone that the older kids were the best and they always got the most attention. I knew that as I got older swimming would become easier and easier, however what was unclear was the fact that I would become a state champion. Five years later I pulled up to a summer practice, something was out of the ordinary this afternoon. Instead of normally hanging out with the swimmers and making a quick chat with us before practice started they were …show more content…
Everything was on schedule and I was ready. The previous years of my life training for this moment would not be spent in vain. My event was called and as I entered the pool deck all I could hear were people cheering and shouting. As the heat before me dove in everything else faded, the shouts and screams of the fans became a faint sound in my ears as I quickly stretched and prepared to step up to the block. As the last person finished I quickly looked into the stands and caught a glimpse of my parents faces. They were smiling and yelling my name along with many other people surrounding them. As the whistle blew to step up I could feel the adrenalin pumping viciously threw my veins. Since this was the finals, and the fastest heat, all of our names were announced over the speaker. As the head official announced my name I knew this was it. This is what I had dreamed of as young swimmer, this was my goal, and absolutely nothing could stop me now. The buzzer went off. My start felt like no other, the sheer force of my calf muscles throwing me off the block and propelling me through the air simply felt amazing. As I raced down the pool it was almost like I was a feather blowing in the wind. It felt so easy but I could feel the power of my body pushing through the water. Coming back the second length I was so far ahead there was nobody even in my peripheral vision. As I smashed into the touch pad concluding my finished, I threw my head up to look
My stomach feels like a rock trying to sink me down to the bottom of the pool. I hear the long whistle signaling me to step up onto the block.s. I step onto the creaky blocks and get ready. Adrenalin rushes through me ready to propel me into the water. The announcer tells us to take our marks. A few short moments after, I hear the long beep which signals me to dive into the water. I hit the water with a graceful splash. The bitter water shocks my system and then sends me into an all-out sprint. I race through the water trying hard not to look at my teammates next to me. As I get closer to the wall I see some of my teammates cheering me on. It feels as if their cheers are propelling me through the water. When I fling into a flip turn I glance at my competitors and I can see I am in front. I push a little bit harder and hit the wall with all my might. I look up at the scoreboard and see that I got first! My legs feel like jello as I get out of the water. Some of my teammates pat me on the back and say things like “Good race,” or “Nice job,” I mumble thank yous and continue on my way to talk to Coach. When I get to my coach she looks very surprised which startles me a bit. “Wow!” She exclaims “I'm really glad I got to see what you can do! Great Job Becca,” My coach says while patting me on the back. I head off to hang with some of my new friends. Even though I was so nervous in the beginning I know
For the past 10 years, competitive swimming exposed me to a variety of new people. My adult role models along with my closest friends all connect to my swimming career in some way. I was honored to be named a captain of my high school swim team, a recognition only few receive on our 50-member team. Being a captain not only meant leading pre-swim exercises and receiving an award at the end of the year, it meant having people look up to me and being accountable for my actions. When a swimmer raced poorly or needed some encouragement, that swimmer turned to me. Having a constant smile on my face or saying “we can do it” became an everyday occurrence. Parents frequently approached me to say how much I impacted their child’s life or how they came home saying my pre-meet pep talk encouraged them through their tough races. While completing a team
That moment was the most gut wrenching; the first moment you first see the crowd watching your every movement. When I stood there, my eyes scanned the crowd-filled stands in search for my mom. My eyes peeked up to the press box where I saw the slight movements of the five people that would be judging our performance. I looked up at the sky to calm myself and not think about the pains I always felt in my back before a performance. I took a final deep breath and watched our main drum major begin to conduct her hands to start the
Sullivan is still trying to decide on obvious requirements for students to keep track of in order to stay on or join the swim team. “Obviously grades are a requirement,” Sullivan imposed, “Eligibility has to be there.” The main focus that Sullivan wants is for people to come in and know how to swim. Of course, to join a competitive swim team you need to know how to swim, “it doesn’t have to be the prettiest stroke… I don’t mind if I have to break stuff down for people,” Sullivan reinstated. Thought the time has passed for girls’ swimming, you can still try to get in for this winter season. Sullivan wants to be able to include as many people as possible and is happy to accept new people. For the coming spring season, boys who want to swim need to “have their golden ticket, a physical, parent permission slip, and all the dues in” to be able to swim.
The start of the 2002 track season found me concerned with how I would perform. After a disastrous bout with mononucleosis ended my freshmen track season, the fear of failure weighed heavily on my mind. I set a goal for myself in order to maintain focus and to push myself like nothing else would. My goal for my sophomore track season was to become a state champion in the 100 meter hurdles. I worked hard everyday at practice and went the extra mile, like running every Sunday, to be just that much closer to reaching my goal. The thought of standing highest on the podium in the center of the field, surrounded by hundreds of spectators, overcame my thoughts of complaining every time we had a hard workout. When I closed my eyes, I pictured myself waiting in anticipation as other competitors names were called out, one by one, until finally, the booming voice announced over the loudspeaker, "...and in first place, your 2002 100 meter hurdle champion, from Hotchkiss, Connie Dawson." It was visions like these that drove me to work harder everyday.
Swimmers take your mark.......Go, and he's off swimming the 100 freestyle sprint, now the last flip turn, it's all out from here on. But how did he get here? It all started last summer when Josh introduced me to the sport, from there on every week would bring on practice in preparation for our sophomore year. It would take time, dedication, and above all a great friendship. But with no question it would be tough leaving my team on the football field to join friends in the pool. The only problem is, "am I really ready for this?", only time would tell.
When I was younger my parents gave me the opportunity to take swim lessons. They said that they wanted to see me tread the same waters that most every other kid enjoyed playing in. Within days I was able to stop sitting in the shallow end, but I was able to frolic with my friends over the grounds I could not touch. This was the only time they wanted me to be similar to an ordinary child. Any other time, I heard the words “Try a little harder. Go a little faster. Learn a little more.”, because being average was never part of their plan. It wasn’t until my highschool years that I realized that those swim lessons had less to do with enjoyment, but more to do with surviving.
When I was four, I did my first splash-and-dash. Needless to say, my little four year old self adored it. I started to do biathlons more frequently. My school did one every year, a 100 meter swim followed by a half mile run around the soccer fields. I remember this so clearly. It was one of my favorite times of the entire year. I was also a frequent competitor in the ____. One of my most vivid memories about this was the time I got second, to a boy who skipped the second loop of the run. I was devastated because I was so sure I had won, but eventually the boy confessed, and I got that ribbon I wanted oh-so-bad. I was always so excited to get out onto the run course I wouldn’t finish putting my shoes on. I was out onto the course with my heels jutting out of the backs of my shoes.
“BEEP!” the buzzer goes off. We were off like cheetahs after prey into the water. All the thoughts that are coming to my mind as a swim through the crystal blue water are, what will happen to me if I don’t take enough breaths and pass out? What will happen if I miss the wall and end up getting disqualified? What if I choke on water and get last, what if I get last? As were swimming everytime that I took a breath, I can hear the crowd cheering as loud as lions.
I dip my toes in—feels cold. My nerves rise up and spread like fire throughout my body while I watch—while I wait. Stomach hurts. All those butterflies clash and crowd. They come every time that I race—it never fails. There is so much noise—the splash of water, talking, yelling, whistling, cheering.
The pool was unusually empty for the day before a competition as some chose that time to rest and restore in order to be in peak condition for the event. I only recall the coach, these new swimmers and myself in the water. As the coach called out the directions for each lap, his voice bounced off the walls that shimmered with the under water lights that seemed to move as the water ripples above.
A churning in my stomach was begging for the race to end, but the hurdle came up fast. My left leg extended over the top and dragged the rest of my body with it. My right leg snapped down to the track again, and I didn't miss a stride. A rush of relief finally circulated through my body. I kept to a rhythm gliding over the hurdles with ease. My strides were starting to weaken, but all my previous practicing had instilled enough discipline to force myself to continue despite my body's attempts to stop. My body lunged forward over the last hurdle, not as effortlessly as before due to my exhausted muscles. My right leg hit the metal barrier that caused my downfall, and I could feel the bruise forming on my shin. Blood oozed from the rough cuts on my palms, and my knees felt permanently damaged. Falling gave my leading competitors the upper hand, and they seized the chance they had been given crossing the finish line. Swallowing my pride I pushed off the ground and crossed the finish line. I could feel a lump in my throat starting to form. The stinging of tears prickled my eyes not only from the devastation of losing but from the pain in my palms and
Walking into one of the school's swimming pools for the first time and blankly staring off into the water was a moment which refined my lifestyle. I Initially began to question why I had been there in the first place, when in reality, deep down, I knew what I was trying to accomplish: beat my sister at a race. She had a year’s worth of experience more than me. The process seemed like an ordeal and I was ready to stop for air to avoid swallowing water, but I was never going to stop trying to swim forward.
We swam against many fierce teams who had around 50 swimmers. This was frightening. As a team, we found little gratification and won only a couple of meets. Personally, I had an impressive season. I dropped a significant amount of time as the season went on and was able to improve immensely.
The sun was bright and sunny that April morning, Florida seemed to always start spring right. It was my first time in Florida and Walt Disney World. I liked the weather and, most of all I was happy to be there to cheer. As a senior in high school, it was my last year to cheer with the girls I have cheered with since I was seven, and if that was not enough it was my last year on an all-girl team. I was going to attend Florida State University in the fall of 2004 and cheer on a co-ed team. The Florida State University coach and the high school coach were there to see me perform. By the morning of the competition, I was ready to prove myself to the coaches and my team. We crammed into an old school bus to ride us to the competition at Walt Disney World.