Last-minute tips:
you know you want it.
Go for it.
Walking through the mass of faces and dripping bodies,
each countenance more confident
and assured than you feel,
but you hope you appear the same.
One heat before your race.
The girl ahead of you takes
her mark.
Your heart jumps when you think
of how much you want this,
to swim this,
to win this, and you close
your eyes and try to think of
something else.
She's at her turn.
You press your goggles tightly
into your eyes,
your trusty ones whose strap
has broken at least twice.
She comes in with a 32.43.
You breathe deeply.
One whistle,
she's out of the water.
Two whistles,
you're up on the block.
Take your mark.
Eternity passes and still you
wait,
curl yur toes,
arms shoulder-length apart.
GO!
Spring forward, two strokes
before you breathe, and kick.
Someone passes you one your left, and you lengthen
your stroke.
Breathe.
"You know you want this."
Faster.
"Go for it."
Turn, too close, then a
blessed breath.
Faster-- you don't care if you
get sick, pass out,
or die trying, but you won't forgive yourself if you can look back
and know that you could have gone faster.
Halfway through the second lap.
"Good luck!"
Kick, stroke, stroke, then
sweet air.
You're getting tired.
"Knock'em dead!"
Last surge of energy -
to the flags.....
......please!
"One-tenth of a second
can make a difference."
PUSH!....touch.
Tear your goggles off and
look up at the scoreboard.
Your heart surges when you see
a time, but drops when you
remember:
you're in lane 10.
It wasn't enough.
You stumble out of the pool, bruising your knees,
as the heartless whistle calls
forth the next heat.
Too many congratulations when
you just want to be left alone,
thank you, grin shakily.
Droplets of merciless, glistening water mingle with
your sweat and tears, and you
look down at the ground,
hoping no one will notice.

age group 17-18