Final Swim

A short tale I hope will be inspiring to some who are going through hard times and don't think they can make it.

At 19 years old, I was beginning to go through a particularly difficult endeavor. What it was and all the details involved are irrelevant. It is enough to say that I wasn't having doubts as to whether I was going to go through with this, abandon many things that I would have to leave behind, including many people I loved very much and didn't want to be away from. I was not feeling ready for this. As I was in tears, stressing over everything, my dad relayed a story to me that has stuck for a long time. He told me the story of myself, when I preformed something that was fairly remarkable on my high-school swim team...

I was never a remarkable swimmer. I was always decent, but never the top when it came to speed. It was frustrating, but I did my best anyways. At last, my final year of swimming came along and I got to my final race, the region swim meet. It was disappointing that I couldn't make it to the big State swim meet. Regardless, this was my final race. Everything that I had trained for would be put into this race.

My favorite race, the 100 yard butterfly was coming up. I stepped up to the diving block, waiting for the heat before mine to finish. I couldn't be more nervous. My last race. Nothing else mattered in my entire swimming career. This was it. It was me and five others in this heat. One more heat was after mine for the butterfly, but this was all that mattered. This was MY race. While stretching my arms one last time before the race, one guy, from my own team, who was going to be swimming in the lane next to me, stepped up to his block. He then turned to me and said "You're going to eat my bubbles." Anyone that is a swimmer knows that those are fighting words. I was NOT going to take that from him. Me and this guy have been competing all year and our recorded swim times were almost identical in everything. I was not going to eat his bubbles.

The buzzer sounded and the swimmers stepped up on their blocks. My heart was beating faster than it ever had before. For the past three years, I have been swimming for this one race. This race would determine who I was as a swimmer. As I stared at the water, everything seemed silent. I tried to control my nervous breathing. Tried not to think that my parents, even my dad who had come all the way from California to Utah to watch this few minute race, were here. The buzzer sounded and the swimmers leapt.

I dove into the water and began to swim with everything I had. My arms flailed in as controlled of a fashion as I could muster and my legs kicked hard, propelling myself through the water. Only four laps of this and I would be done. By my second lap, I tried to gauge where I was in relation to my opponents. While swimming, it is difficult to see who is in the lane beside you and where exactly they are. I tried anyways and had a hard time seeing anyone. I saw the splashing of someone a couple lanes down, but that was all I could see. I knew what my skill was, and I knew if I couldn't see anyone, I was being beaten. I couldn't lose this race. This was everything I had when it came to swimming. My heart began to ache and I swam harder in a desperate attempt to catch up with those who had passed me on the turn. Finished the second lap and still, I hadn't caught up. I pushed hard. Upon finishing the third lap, knowing I had just a few more yards to go, I still couldn't see anyone. I was panicked. I didn't think I was losing this bad. In one last push of desperation, I put EVERYTHING I had into that last lap. I felt myself struggling for breath. I was feeling weak, but couldn't stop. Had to go on. Had to close as much distance as possible.

Finally, My hands hit the pad at the end of the pool and I breathed. I struggled to catch my breath and decipher what happened. After I pulled my goggles off, my vision cleared and I looked around me. Nobody else was even at the end point now. They had finished so far ahead that they had already gotten out? I was devastated. I didn't want to see what my time was, but I looked up at the score board anyways. I was in shock. My timer was the only one stopped. Next to my lane number, to placement finishing, was a number one. I looked behind me to see that every other swimmer had barely finished their third lap. Not only had I just devastated my competition, but my finishing time was remarkable.

Anyone who swims butterfly will understand this, but I shall try to explain for others. In swimming, it is easy to initially shave several seconds off a time. After you become more refined, you lose less and less time off each race. Where you might have improved five seconds with each race previously, you get to the point to where it becomes harder. Eventually you get to where you only drop one second off your previous time. After that, it becomes even harder to where a swimmer is quite happy when they swim a race only 0.2 seconds faster than their last race. I was to that point in my own skill. My races would drop 0.1-0.5 seconds. 0.5 was really good for me, but I normally shot for 0.2 by the end of my season.

I don't remember what exactly my finishing time was, but I remember how much better it was previously. My time had dropped 7 full seconds! This was an absolute shock to me, several my fellow swim mates, and my coach. The pool was cleared to make way for the next and final heat of butterfly swimmers. Later I found out that I had come in fourth place overall in the butterfly. First and second placers were my own team. I had scored for my team.

My dad recalled this story for me. He then asked me "When did you know you were ready for that?" When did I know? Well, I certainly didn't think I was ready before the race. During the race, I thought I was losing the whole time. After I finished, I realized that I was more prepared than what I though. This story propelled me through my next endeavor and helped me to achieve what I wanted.

We encounter many situations that are difficult. Rarely do people feel ready for very challenging situations. We are nervous beginning. During whatever ordeal we may be going through, we often think we can't do this. We often think we are losing. We stress and see that others are so far ahead of us and we won't win. When that happens, press on. Holding back and accepting defeat never has achieved anything. Even when the odds are stacked against you, swim harder. Catch up. Do everything you can to win, even if you don't think you are ready, even if you "know" you are losing.

I am constantly reminding myself to finish the race, then judge how I did.

It isn't until AFTER you are finished, that you will see how ready you truly were.