Dear every coach/ instructor I’ve ever had, 

Everyone knows of Michael Phelps, fewer know of Tom Daley, these men are my favorite Olympians. As Michael steps onto the starting block with his heart pounding and his adrenaline pumping he waits in anticipation for the start. The starter sounds and he dives into the water not too deep and not too shallow, just under enough that he can kick his legs up and down faster than a dolphin. He keeps kicking until he reaches approximately the 15m mark his arms gracefully yet explosively come out of the water and he begins his stroke. His technique is excellent his arms are constantly moving and his legs keep up a fast paced rhythm. He flies down the pool. He touches the wall and pushes off at supersonic speeds and finds his groove under the surface of the water before he breaks into his perfected stroke all over again. Nearing the wall he gives everything he’s got his legs are numb, but he keeps kicking knowing he can win. He reaches for the wall and slams the touch pad.

Tom Daley walks to the edge of the platform, concentrating on what he is supposed to do. He sets up for the dive in his head ready to execute it perfectly. He places his feet on the edge raising his arms to find his balance. He pauses for a second, then stretches his arms up and circles his arms back gaining momentum, pops his toes, and begins his dive. First he waits until he has thrown his body into a flipping rotation, then he throws his twist a two and a half rotation. Now his body is vertical in the air facing away from the platform. He pulls his body into a pike two finish with a one and a half front flip. He kicks out at the perfect time with hardly any splash. These two men are my idols, and with the instructions I have received throughout my swimming and diving career, gets me one step closer to being just like them.

Diving has always brought conflict, but still I find a peace and a joy even among it all. My first year diving I had issues with my mental fears and the stress of meets. On top of that, there was competition between me and another diver. Now diving gives me a sense of control and a peace that’s hard to explain. In the air I am at one with my body and once I enter the water I am free. It’s confusing and probably only makes sense to me. The water is a safe haven it will never hurt me. Even when I smack, the water soothes the pain. The smell of a pool instantly reminds me of the peace I feel when I’m under.

The air feels heavier than normal. I feel more exposed as I’m on display for criticism. The air is thick and my heart is heavy. I can smell the one scent I’ll never be rid of. A swell of appeasement replaces my nervous energy. Even though, the water looks like it could swallow me and I’d never resurface and the board that hangs over the water looks like it is 10 ft tall I can find tranquility. There is no sound other than the judge. I climb the steps and stare at the faded blue board before I adjust the fulcrum that is tight and extremely difficult to move, the struggle hurts my foot as it refuses to move. Finally it’s on the right setting a little bit of relief washes over me. Still my feet feel uncertain and I wait for the judge to finish announcing my dive, although it sounds to me like he’s announcing my sentence.

I stare at the water and begin to find my peace. I breathe in the chlorine and let it permeate my lungs and soul. I close my eyes and disregard the people around me. When I open my eyes I begin my approach, the little details of how I want to execute this dive run through my mind. I single out each step and implement them with precision. Once my dive is complete I enter the water. I feel a sense of relief come over me. How I wish I could stay under forever, I am at peace under the water. I smile to myself as I propel myself up off the bottom of the pool. I come up doing my signature twist before I surface. The judges’ scores don’t matter to me, I look to my coach and see a hint of satisfaction in her body language and I know I did exactly what I was supposed to.

I found my best friends through swim. First Shelbey then Jessica, I really don’t know what I would do without them. Shelbey is older than me by almost two years. She was an experienced swimmer on the YMCA Stingrays and I was only just learning the different strokes; even though I have been in swim lessons since I was three. She saw me as a newcomer and took me under her wing. We instantly became friends we would talk about everything going on in our lives. We saw each other five days a week. We would vent to each other about school, about our families, about our problems, and about things we took interest in. She taught me most things I know. She was the one person on my team I knew I could trust, she was the person I always wanted to be, I looked up to her. She was independent from everyone around her, she knew what she wanted to do, she knew everything, and she knew how to be a great friend.

She took me as her little sister. Finally, I had a sister I could tell everything to. She was strong, intelligent, admirable, independent, loving, inspirational, and honest. Shelbey always gave the best advice even when she didn’t exactly know what the whole situation was. If I had never swam I would have never met her and probably wouldn’t be the person I am today and maybe not even be here. Jessica, I met before swim, but we didn’t exactly hit it off. My first year at Temperance Road I was locker partners with Jessica. She did not like me, in fact you could say we had a mutual hate almost. She also swam for the Stingrays we would talk because we were the only people each other knew, by doing so we got over whatever happened in fourth grade.

By seventh grade we didn’t hate each other but we were not the type of friends who would hang out outside of school or swim. Ninth grade came so fast and swim season started. Jessica and Shelbey were the two people I basically clung to because I was a shy little freshman. Jessica and I had lunch and English together so we talked more and more. When tragedy struck we held on to each other with our lives. We bonded over poetry and we fed off each other’s strength. Jessica will always be there for me no matter what time of day; that’s what I love most about her. Jessica has guided me through so many tough situations and even when there are no words to be said she still speaks the most. I owe my life to Shelbey and Jessica, so in a sense I owe my life to swim.

Swim is a get away from the outside world. It takes a lot of focus to count laps, keep times, count strokes, count breaths, remember to kick of the wall, and keep your elbows high. When you swim you never really have a blank mind; there’s always numbers circling and that annoying song, you can’t get away from, playing. But the beauty of only seeing numbers, is that nothing else around you can get in. Being in the water just makes me feel separate from all my problems, all the drama; everything disappears when I enter the water. It’s not mindless swimming it’s mindful swimming.

Swimming is not really a team sport per say, but when the way I look at it I would be nowhere without my team. Picture this we’re all dressed alike, caps and goggles in hand; standing about the water’s edge. Each of us has our hair tied up tight on top of our heads, each rambling about what we’ll have to endure.

“I have to swim the 500,” someone whines.

“Yeah that sucks, but I have to swim the 200IM,” someone retorts. It’s all complaining. That’s all you hear. We all stare at the water just praying our events get scratched. We must put on our gray caps with the letter “B” on the sides. Once our caps are on, it becomes slightly difficult to determine who is who once we get in the water. I think that’s the point; is that we are one, everyone like each other. Like a body made up of different parts we each have our own function to perform. But we are one when it matters.

It’s in my hair, in my skin, in my veins, in my blood, it’s a part of me that I’ll never be able to get rid of. The scent clings to me even months after not being in the water. Even though it sounds like it’s a burden it’s my favorite thing about my sport. I’ll never forget what I miss. When I get a whiff of the strong scent of chlorine I think about all the memories I’ve made through doing the sport. All the good, all the bad, every person I’ve ever met from different seasons, every struggle, every little kid, every participation ribbon I’ve ever gotten, every medal, every trophy, and every time I know I have gotten I remember everything and it makes me smile from ear to ear. Chlorine is something I’m very proud to carry, it reminds me where I belong. I could never hate the smell of chlorine it is a reminder of how swimming and diving are the reason I found who I am.