Kicking for State
I heard screams of “kick, kick, kick!” The words ran together, but I
somehow made sense of them. When my fingertips touched the wall, my body felt
lifeless.
It was a pleasantly warm summer day. I was at the Mitchell swim meet.
My last chance to qualify for State.
If I failed today, I would be the
only one chewing myself out. This was
IT. I had been practicing harder than ever and I knew, by looking at the times
of the other swimmers, that if I wanted to qualify, I would have to
win the heat. When I heard the first
call for my event, I sighed and walked over to the blocks.
Finally, it was the third heat. The sun had gone
behind a cloud and the breeze had picked up a little. The direction of the wind
was in my favor, so that would help me swim. I looked over to the spectators,
parents, coaches, friends, and other swimmers sitting in lawn chairs and on
bleachers. The heavy scent of chlorine was in the air, but I was no longer fazed
by it, having been swimming in chlorinated water the entire summer.
I stood on my block. I was so nervous I could almost taste it, and I had
to try to stop myself from shaking. My heart was beating so fast I thought it
would leap out of my chest. Adrenaline was definitely present in my system. I
hoped my shoulder and legs would hold out for me, seeing as I had slight
tendonitis in my right shoulder, and my legs were already beginning to feel like
jelly.
I bent
down, tensed my grip on the rough block, and pulled myself backward a bit. When
I heard the long, high-pitched beep, I dove over the swimmer from the previous
heat and into the cool water.
I kicked. I don’t have much arm strength. I knew I would have to kick. I
circled my arms as fast as I could, pulling the water, urging me forward. But I
kicked like there was no tomorrow. I’m a
runner. I have leg strength.
Kicking, I could do.
I touched the wall and instantly went limp, though my breathing was
labored. I had no idea how I placed, but I knew it was close. I heaved myself up
out of the pool, feeling dizzy, and walked over to my coach, Ellie Reynen.
“You did it.” She said. “You qualified.”