I arrived at the Onelife pool already dressed in proper swimwear. Coach Rod informed me of the warm up routine, which in this case was fifty-meter butterfly, fifty-meter backstroke, fifty-meter breaststroke, then fifty-meter freestyle. I jumped into the pool and waited for my body to adjust to the water temperature. While I was completing the warm-up, Coach Rod went over the warm-up procedure with later arrivals.
“Swimming is a sport of details. The smallest adjustments can make the biggest difference.”
UNKNOWN
As soon as I finished the warm-up, I noticed that on the schedule board, there was bold lettering that appeared that Coach Rod was planning for us to time our freestyles, with the highest record of the year being 28 seconds for 50 meters. I know that 28 seconds might be out of reach for me, so I attempted to beat my previous personal record of 35 seconds.
As all the swimmers lined up, Coach Rod went in order, starting with me. There were no expectations set for today’s class, as I was the first. I held the edge of the pool with my right hand and pointed to the other end of the lane with my left. My legs compressed into a tight coil, just like a drawn bow. I waited for Coach Rod to give the whistle for me to launch. My mind is cleared, and the only emotion that is remaining is determination—a vicious one—to accomplish something worthy of the hours of practice. As my muscles relaxed, I could sense the tense yet silent atmosphere of my peers. I raised my head and glanced into the distant lanes. Nothing was in motion. Nothing was of importance except for my moment. Nothing was going to be able to comprehend my next feat. My mind attempted to boost my morale.
As soon as I heard the sharp sound of the whistle, I let my right hand gently slip off of the wall and I pushed off the wall with all my power. Now submerged in the water, my legs kicked until I built up speed. Like an arrow gliding through the air, I could feel my hands split the streams of water ahead.
Soon enough, I emerged from the water and immediately pumped my arms forward one after another. Making sure to take as few breaths as possible, I imagined that swimming ahead of me was the milestone of achievement. After reaching the other end of the lane, I knew that I had only completed half of the distance. I rolled and realigned my feet against the wall, pushed, and turned around.
The last half is the challenge of any sport. Whether utter failure or success, the mentality decides what you’re capable of doing. Fatigue up to a point is only a delusion. Delusion is only what shackles you to mediocrity. As tired as ever, my legs were afflicted by the soreness afterwards, but my mind was still marching forward. I could feel my arms starting to slow, but I could hear my comrades cheering me for the final few meters. With the last ounce of my strength, I gave my last kick and pulled myself forward until my hand grasped the finish.
Not knowing it, I completed the fifty-meter freestyle, breaking my personal record. I was astonished by my new record– 33 seconds. This was also one of the best records in my age group (11) at the Machine Aquatics club.
