The moment before your fingers touch the wall, in that split second that makes the difference between first place and fourth, is the second that I live for. Wet fingers slip through the water, trying to reach the edge that will bring glory, or defeat. The water tries to hold me back, but it can’t stop my fingers that slice through the water imagining that moment when I can smack the timer pad and glance up at the solitary number “1” by my lane number on the score board. It is in that one second that legends are born, and is what separates the swimmers from the mermaids.
And then it’s over, and the girl from the lane over is just finishing, your heart races as your eyes glance up at the score board against your will. First place. You smile in spite of yourself. You’ve done it again, and you are reminded again why you joined swim in the first place.
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