The Race

Deep breath in, deep breath out.

 I gaze over at the pool, the bright blue water shining in anticipation.  The girls in the heat before me getting ready to go.  I look up into the stands for a quick moment, regreting it when I spot the collage scouts in the front row.  

My heart rate soars and I look back in front of me, letting the music blasting from my headphones engulf my thoughts. A faint beep can be heard through the music, reminding me that I only have two more minutes until I’m up.  

Moving around the timers, I click the whale tail into position and swing my arm around, almost hitting an unsuspecting offical in the process.  

The competition lights seep into my eyelids as I blink, making me want to cover myself with a large blanket in the corner.  I shake my head and look to the left, and then to the right, nodding at my friends in my heat.  

Peeling off my shirt, reviling the four-hundred dollar suit beneath, I toss it on the chair behind me, tucking my phone in the back of my suit as I do the same with my pants.  

When the girls in the heat before me have less than 25 meters to go, I take off my headphones, abruptly cutting off the song playing.  

The pool deck almost seems quiet as the eight girls touch, their heavy gasps filling my ears.  I push my goggles down onto my face, closing my eyes and taking a deep breath as I massage out my shoulders.  The announcers voice blasts out, filling the pool deck with his loud voice.

         “Now for the fastest head of 200 free for the 15 and under girls!” He yells, coaxing a large cheer out of the crowd.  Somewhere in there I can hear my friends screaming my name, wishing me good luck from afar.  

         “In lane one, Alexa Japper!” 

Deep breath in.

         “Lane two, Jane Farmer!” 

Deep breath out.

         “Lane three,  Meagan Libby!” 

Deep breath in. 

         “And in lane four, your fastest qualifier from this morning, Rebecca Freen!” 

I breath out and wave to the crowd a bit at the mention of my name. 

The rest of the names blur together and I snap my arm muscles together.  Butterflies cannot compare to the feeling in my stomach as the referee blows the whistle, holding the third shrill longer than the rest.  

I step up on the block and gaze at my one foot, settling into the start I have worked on all my life.  

         “Take your marks,” The ref says placidly.  I tense up, a coiled spring waiting to be released.  My muscles are taunt, the tendons in my forearm popping out next to my face.  

         “Beep”  

 I spring off the block, as the buzzer goes off, hearing a short burst of cheering before my body hits the water.  But then all sound is cut off,  and I am left surging through the cool water, my suit melting in with my body.

I kick with all my might, breaking through the surface after a few meters.  The sereneness of before gone, leaving me hearing the rushing of water and short busts of cheering and whistling.  

I take a shuddering breath as I go into the first wall, my arms and legs burning as I tuck over.  The only person close to me is the girl in lane three, her goggles flashing as she flips a second after me.  I push my body even farther, spinning my arms around with the fastest stroke rate I have ever had before.  

I can hear the announcers deep, booming voice through the water, heatedly describing our race.  In my momentary distraction,  Meagan Libby managed to sneak right next to me, tying me through the second turn.  

I gasp with the effort, my body protesting inordinately.  Through the third turn and into the last 50 meters, Meagan pulls ahead slightly.  My body screams in pain, wishing me to stop.  I take a deep breath and urge my body forward, pushing my body to the limit.  

25 meters to go.  

I mentally scream at myself, gaining on her slightly, my fingertips alining with hers.

10 meters to go.  

My legs throb as I amp my kick up one more notch, a large stitch forming itself into my side.  

Five meters to go.

I dig deep into myself, pulling roughly at the water and slamming my hand into the wall with so much force that it stings.  

Ignoring my burning hand, I whip my head to the clock, searching for my name.  My jaw drops open, a triumphant shout escaping me.  I settle down into the water, leaning over the lane rope next to Meagan.  I lean my head on her shoulder. She laughs through her short gasps.

         “God Becca, I actually thought I was going to win that.” She mutters with amusement.  I nod, my throbbing body overwhelming me.

         “Yeah,” I pant, “I thought you were going to as well.”

 We pull ourselves out from the pool slowly and I smile as the timers congratulate me.  We walk arm in arm to the podium.  The announcer shakes both of our hands with a smile.  

         “In bronze, Jane Farmer!” The announcer speaks into his microphone.          

        “In silver, Meagan Libby!” 

A loud cheer radiates through the crowd.  I give her a thumbs up as she steps up onto the podium.

        “And in gold, winning the 200 free with a time of 1:59.43, her team mate, Rebecca Freen!”

I step up onto the podium, a large smile on my face.  I bend over for the young girl to place the medal and stand up,  feeling the cool medal on my chest.

As we step down off the podium stand I feel a small warm hand on my arm.  Turning around, I see that it is the young girl who handed out our medals. She gives me a shy smile.

        “I want to be like you one day.” She says quietly.  I smile even larger and pull my medal off my neck, placing in on hers.  She looks down at it with awe.

         “One day you will be even better.” I say and walk away, a large smile on my face.