Personal Narrative Essay About Swimming

1782 Words4 Pages

My heart pounds in my chest as my sweaty hands tighten my goggles. The swimmer in the water, a muscular freestyler, just finished her race. That’s when I realize it’s time. Hang on, rewind to about 6 months ago. The beginning of my winter season was a mess. My team's head coach, an Olympic trial qualifier, retired at the end of the summer season. He left us with a feeble replacement. Our old coach, Steve, had high expectations for all of his swimmers. He helped us swim faster by teaching us self-motivation and how to push ourselves. When his replacement, Joel, showed up on deck, we were terrified. Not that we were scared of him, but we started to fear the future of our swimming careers. I was seconds away from the national qualifying time, …show more content…

Not to train hard and become better than everybody else. Not to push yourself to the limit. Not to worry about who is going to beat you by how many seconds. Not to meet everyone else’s expectations. Not to win. The point of swimming is to have fun and race. Several times that season I had been so stressed I forgot to race. I tried to pace myself and compare myself to the other swimmers and how they were doing. How all the girls from other teams were improving so much more than me. So I whispered to myself right then and there “I got this. I’ve swum this race hundreds of times. I’ve practiced for this everyday for the past 6 months, there’s no reason to be stressed. I am going to swim and I am going to race. But above all, I am going to have fun.” I stood behind the block, my heart pounding in my chest, waiting. The straps of my suit pressed down on my shoulders with the weight of a mountain. What seemed like eternities later, the starter called my event. The first 150 was a supersonic blur. On the last 50 yards, fatigue started to set in. I flipped into my last turn and held my streamline tight while doing my dolphin kicks. I came up, took my final breath, and used everything I had left in the tank. My hand slammed into the wall as I looked up. 1:55.82 was written across the board in bright red. I crawled out of the pool as my teammates sprinted over to me. Tears started running down my red cheeks as I realized what I had just accomplished. I made

More about Personal Narrative Essay About Swimming

Open Document