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Swimming the Sky
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Swimming the Sky |
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Artur Hawkwing Member
since 1999-06-30
Posts 444USA |
Swimming the Sky I am not one to tell stories, but I wished to tell this as it might provide some inspiration. This is a true story about one of the "incidents" when I was on the swim team. I was co-captain with about six others, not long ago, barely last year. It still floods like a memory that I have all but lost, and will never, ever abandon. I had been swimming for a good year, and I was not as experienced as the others, but I could never envision myself giving up on something that I loved dearly: the water. The water was my life, my joy, where I could always pour my anguish into and watch the chlorine do its work. My dedication could be compared to the soldier in battle, sworn to die for the king. It has to be understood at the time that I felt I had little to live for, and I expected someone to pull me out of my sadness, but only I could do that. And with a little help, of course. I found some good friends by pure coincidence on the team. The same can be said of the swim coach. She had begun coaching at the same time I had begun swimming, and things were not going to end up perfect the first time. But she pulled it off nicely as a coach, and all the kids liked her a whole lot. Imagine starting your junior year in high school in a school ten times larger than the last school you had attended, with 3,000 kids this time. I did not know any of the kids, I was basically a newcomer. The schedule read for first period: Swimming A.M. I had never been on a swim team before, so I had no clue of what to expect as I walked into the gymnasium after an exhilarating twenty minutes to find the gymnasium! The swim coaches were collecting physical forms, and I walked up to the lady coach and told her who I was. I told her that I had never been on a swim team, and that I wanted to be on the swim team. And so that's how I found out that this was the morning swim team, the varsity. Then the coach said that I may not be able to swim on the team because I had never swam on one before. I must admit that this was like a dream being crushed right at the start. I was determined, and my face drew on an anguished crease. Abruptly, I realized the coach was looking at me as if she were worried. I was determined, I could feel the fire raging inside me, as swimming on the team was a dream to me. On the walk home, the cold fire was still burning, as hot as a boiling kettlepot. I was as determined as a rock. As the day darkened, my dad arrived home from work, and I had my parents sit with me as I discussed the situation. I had gone through a lot the past summer, from moving in with my dad, enrolling into a new school, working out at the local pool almost everyday, having a swim tutor, and above all trying to drain away the painful memories of Kansas. And now this! My dad and step-mother assured me that they would talk to the coaches about it. They weren't going to leave out the tidbit about me working out at the swimming pool nearly everyday, nor the attempts to gain a few drills from the swim tutor. The swim coaches were convinced to give me a chance, a shot at it. My schedule was changed so I could be on the junior varsity team, which was fourth period, beginning at 1:00 p.m. I was so escastic about it, but my face would not show it to anyone except myself in my own room. The first two weeks of swim class contained no swimming, but running. They had to get the bus schedule in order, due to the number of kids on the team. About 45-50 kids on junior varsity, I would estimate. We ran, did dryland workouts, and even the lady coach joined in the workouts. The lady coach was an athlete, a marathoner, herself. And a bio. teacher to top it all. A true overachiever, and a fearless advocate of keeping a good attitude towards life. Then the day came, the buses coasted to a stop in the bus rampway. All the kids were off, and we were on a ten-minute drive to the WAC (Woodlands Athletic Center) where they have olympic divers and swimmers alike performing with fluid grace. I could just summon it to mind, all the huge, muscular boys swimming the butterfly effortlessly, the girls never so as much taking a breath every four strokes. The divers coming off the 10-meter platform with somersaults and backflips that would give me butterflies at the stomach. That was exactly what I saw in the days afterwards. We had our swim suits donned, and sat on the benches while the coaches began discussing what was planned for the upcoming months. I could see the blue water in the background dance in a lulling song, so vast yet an Olympican's dream. And that day the sky was baking, a wrathing sun beating upon us. As we sat there, a vast memory long, long ago. The boys and girls lined up for swimming together, and I fumbled with my goggles, trying to adjust them in a fitting size. The coach had the kids jump in immediately, and begin swimming. I kept straining to keep water from getting in the goggles. Those goggles were hard as iron against my eyelobes and made horrid red marking around the eyes. The coach made us hold our breath underwater several times, and drilled us on our kicking a little bit. A wonderful day thus far, and a sunburn gained. Then I felt a pang on my head, and the lack of oxygen gave me a migraine. Taking my ride home at 4:30 p.m., I felt disgusted with the chlorine in my lungs. I drank too much water from the pool. And held my breath too much for a beginner. My headache lasted eight hours, until midnight, and I slept for about five hours. In the end, I had no choice but to retch from the horrid headache. I could not do homework. I could only sleep. I woke up blessed to see that headache gone. The time read: 6:35. In the morning. The swim team worked out everyday on Mondays through Fridays, from 2:00 p.m. to 3:30 p.m. It stretched towards 4:00 p.m. if it was on the "drylands" schedule as well. We'd wait for our parents to stop by, giving us a ride home. I made friends with the kids in no time, they were quite outgoing. The bus was always loud and the bus driver was sometimes cranky, but always sparing jokes with the kids. Every day turned out getting more intense by intervals, such as the supposed routine was. The junior varsity kids swam about 3,000 yards on average. The swim coach was also a newcomer, like I, to the team, so she was planning the swim workout schedule with caution. A remarkable lady, regarding every kid as much an individual as herself, listening to every complaint, rarely shouting, and very patient. At first, I had all the strokes down the wrong way, but the swim coach drilled me on that, and had other kids help me learn to do it properly. I found that I could do the breaststroke with ease every time, and sometimes the butterfly and freestyle. But my times were not that great at first, they basically went down the drain. I compared my times to the other kids' times, and found that my times were not great at all. But my coach saw it as a remarkable time, because it was a personal achievement. A personal achievement was what I was determined to do after all, and slowly, but ever-rising, my determination was hot as fire on coals. My father brought a video camera to the first swim meet, the Red-Green swim meets. The colors of the Highlanders were red and green, of course. Dazzling christmas colors! I felt embarassed with my speedo on in front of the camera, but he caught every part of my breaststroke competition, and by the end of the meet, everyone on the team was laughing as they shouted at the other varsity and junior varsity kids on the opposing team. It was proceeded by a banquet where everyone walked upstairs to find a surprise dinner prepared. That might as well have filled my stomach again, but I felt sick again. I would've died to achieve victory over my fear. The one thing I was determined to possess was courage. Time swept away like a leaf carried by the wind. The first year was aside, and the second school year came to a start. A vote was to be conducted over who would become the captain of the swim team. This time, the swim team was so big (55-60 kids) that about six captains seemed a good idea for team work. My coach believed in team work, that it was a positive way of working together, and indeed it worked! But she formed a list of rules for the captains, focusing firstmost on what would elect the captains, such as athleticism and communication skills, and moral qualities were also regarded with high importance. The coach took a part in the electing herself. Six kids were chosen for captain. They were Tara, Johanna, Eric... beyond that, I cannot remember. But I was one of them! I was astonished, and very humbled to hear of such a honor. The first day at the WAC the second year, the kids stood gathered at a party with snacks and cookies and chips in the lounge room upstairs. The captains were formally announced to all the freshmen, and I felt immense pride being able to stand alongside those kids who were also considered good models for the other kids to look up towards. I could remember that some of the freshmen that had met me had not expected me to be captain, and when they heard my name announced, they just looked at me in plain wonder. And clapped their hands and stuck a thumbs-up at me. Time trails caused a commotion of dread to uprise from the kids, and every day of that week, every event had the kids knocked to fatigue. Then my favorite event, 100 breaststroke, just popped up and I was on the start block before I knew it. The last year, my best time in the event had been 1:34. But overwhelming courage and faith took me at that minute, and as her hand raced down for the race to start, I felt myself plunge into the water for an almost-perfect dive, with water separating as I whooshed in the water like a cannonball. I could see the blue surface shining faintly above my head as I took hold of my wings and began bobbing up and down like a dolphin, with every grace I could muster at the overwhelming surge of energy. As I raced to the end of the first lap, I noticed to my amazement there was no one to my front on each side. This was devastating madness, this had never happened to me before. I felt a beaming surge of joy as I finished the remaining three laps, and when I got out of the water, I hardly felt all that tired. Just a little heavy breathing, but that was about it. But I had not truly realized what I had done yet, because all the kids were looking at me funny, and my coach was pointing at the paper very excitedly. She pointed at my time, and it read 1:19. I was taken by silence and shock, because I had cut fifteen seconds off my personal record, in the elapse of a single summer! That year, practice was even harder, and we were pummeled with endless laps. I could feel my arms drop like anchors while doing the butterfly, and my butterfly was starting to fail me. My muscles were expanding too fast, and I had the lung of a whale. Holding my breath for almost fifty yards underwaters on some days was simply absurd. Meanwhile, my breaststroke maintained, and my freestyle kept getting better. Then there were the strange days. On those days, fate intercepted with horror. I had began water polo as well, and we swam at the WAC at 5:30 every morning, then I had swim practice later in the afternoon. In water polo, most of the boys were varsity swimmers, and I had to swim at their pace, if I could dare to keep up with them. Some of them, I managed to keep up with. I was reaching to where I would swim around 7,000 yards on some days, and this was still a little rough on a swimmer who had barely swum a full year on the team. But that was not it. One day at swim practice, I felt all pumped up and ready to swim, and I was as healthy as I could ever be. Those were my 'berserk' days, when I could dive in the water and match the fastest freestylers on junior varsity, and match them in other strokes. I was simply fire in water, because my body was numb, I had no sense of the pain. I would not allow myself to feel it. And as I consumed the water, it would eventually consume me. That day, I swam as I miraculously had never done before, with all the undying power I could manage to find. Short of death. We swam a hard practice that day, about 3,500 yards. Lots of sprinting. Lots of countless laps. I was fine, till the very last butterfly stroke touched the last lap. Practice was done, I felt my heart screaming at the beating rate of ten per second, with endless agony and cries in the deep. I was struggling to put on my shoes, when the pain struck in full, and I looked up at the sky, and the sky was gray instead of blue, and huge white specks floated in the air. I remember that my emotions took on a strange reflection, as if I did not feel pain, but kindness for the others around me. But no, that was not right. I walked up the steps slowly, the white specks growing thicker and thicker, as I walked towards my coach. My coach was talking to three kids, one aside. I tapped my coach on her shoulder, too weak to speak, and she turned around and saw me and quickly motioned for me to sit down on the chair. I kept falling asleep but my coach shook me and told me to stay awake, but I would barely look or listen. I knew that I needed to take deep breathes, so that is what I proceeded to do. I recovered in about five minutes, and she told me that she had called 911. They were coming, with their IV shots handy. I could not believe 911 had been called on me! The courage in me still raged like the sea. The paramedics arrived, with an ambulance, and they tested my heart pulse, and found nothing. Just as quickly as it had come, it had disappeared. In the emergency room, the coach joined my parents, and talked to them about my situation. My step-mom said that I had never told them about this happening to me on an earlier incident, one that was not quite so bad. It was another one of my 'berserk' days. I said that I had told my dad, but I had not expressed it as if it were a serious concern at all. The doctor examined me, but found nothing at all. No evidence. All traces had vanished. The best that he could say was that I had something common in athletes, for not eating enough. What I think happened was that (as my coach told me later, I required 4,000 calories a day) with water polo and swimming and academics on my shoulders. What I think happened was that I did not eat enough at lunch, just a mere few pretzels, and sometimes a candy bar, but I did not have money to spare for lunch food, and I was worried about my dad getting mad because I had been so hungry I ate twice the lunch he allowed me to eat. I ate two regular lunches and sometimes, on other days, two Pizza Hut slices. My dad had a temper, he would get so angry if I consumed the lunch money so quickly. So I hid the fact from him that I had run out of lunch money, and was relying on my money to buy pretzels and water from the machines. I remember buying two of those pretzel bags for a while until I felt it was time for me to ask my dad for more lunch money. After the incident, I secretly asked my mom to mail me lunch money. I was so afraid of my dad being angry because he had a short fuse. I got twice the lunch money now, one from dad, and one from mom (in secret) so I could have twice my lunch. But my heart was so powerful, and it was just overworked, and the calories must have been so burned out the heart began to burn itself. I was not allowed to swim for two weeks. It was torture enough for me, and I knew that in my innermost self, I still had that raging fire burning, and it was confusing me. I wanted courage. I wanted to embrace death. I longed for the water, in where I could pour all the anguish of living I knew, but above all, I longed to shatter my loneliness. It would never happen. The swim team welcomed me back with concern, and I knew that if my heart started misbehaving again, this could be a threat to my swimming lifestyle. And my life, so my coach and father had repeatedly said. But I was fearless. I had no reason to worry about myself, I did not care for my existence as long as I could get rid of the pain. I was not afraid of anything, including death. The incidence happened once again afterwards, but I knew immediately when to stop, and told my coach that I should refrain from swimming for the day. It was like a timebomb! But fortunately, the incident never occurred again afterwards. I made sure I ate plenty! One day, the last swim meet was drawing to a close, and we had the junior varsity championships being held. Several kids seemed tired that day, and I was too, but I knew my fool courage would get me somewhere in this meet. I stood on the start block watching the start gun with careful eyes, as it was raised for the breaststroke event. I knew the cold fire still trembled. The gun went off, and all the swimmers dived and began sprinting. I was at the lead with another guy as he pulled ahead, but still I didn't care. I wanted anything but last place. My hands hit the pad against the wall as the race finished, and I looked unblinking at the time. I had 1:15, which was my last personal record, and I was proud of it because this was my last high school swim meet. And I had done well, placing second place in the junior varsity championships. But one thing I could not erase from memory. I could not simply rub out the friendship my teammates had shown towards me, they had shouted and cheered for me in the meets, respected me a great deal more than I thought I deserved, even shared me in on some of their outrageous jokes. And my coaches, two of them, had made a difference. The lady one inspired the team to keep a positive attitude and smile even when they were losing. I had thought I was on the losing side, but a little dedication mixed with a drop of courage mixed with a positive attitude could do great marvels. |
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| © Copyright 1999 Artur Hawkwing - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Kelly Member
since 1999-07-03
Posts 145 |
Great work. It was very interesting. Please please be careful. Good health is everything. I have admit that I felt angry at the thought of you jeopardizing your health because you feared your father's reaction. You should feel free to express such a basic need. I hope your father understands why this all happened. God Bless you and please take care. |
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Nicole Senior Member
since 1999-06-23
Posts 1835Florida |
I feel as if you have just written a little bit of my past! There was a time when I was on a swim team, and all of the emotions you expressed were right on. I VERY much understand the fear you had of your father's temper. Even sitting here now, writing this reply, I'm still stunned at how similar your piece is to my past. Thank you very much for posting this! ------------------ "Grief can take care of itself, but to get the full value of joy you must have somebody to divide it with." *Mark Twain* |
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Artur Hawkwing Member
since 1999-06-30
Posts 444USA |
I have a natural tendency to not think too straight in the daytime because I am a nocturnal person - you know? So I waited till now to respond, so thanks for putting up with my shortcomings! Kelly, A remarkable saying, "Good health is everything!" I should consider it, I really should, but I have a tendency to go over the boundary at times, hoping that my stubbornness can somehow dominate. Even over health. That's what happened at the time, but there was also a cause behind it. I had slipped out to my dad one day that I was eating two meals a day, and he got upset and said that I needed to try eating only one meal a day because it was a waste of money. And I must limit myself to the same as my step-brother. The villain and motivator leading to this situation was money. My dad was worried about money. I couldn't change his mind, and I was afraid to try persuading him a second time. But I learned TWO lessons here: 1.)Don't do the same thing to my future children. 2.)Basic needs go first. And a third! 3.)Good health is everything! Thanks for adding the third, Kelly! It's been a pleasure hearing your thoughts! God bless! (smile!) Satiate, It really really really means a lot to me hearing that you know where I approach from. (phew!) At least I don't have to confront my father's temper so often anymore! -- my dad's family liked to argue for the sake of argument, but I made sure that I didn't, because arguing is like a "bad habit!"... How time flies - it only seems like yesterday that I was really struggling, and I think one of my favorite quotes came from Napoleon. "I came. I saw. I conquered." I like having a nice discussion with someone who was once a fellow swimmer! You are most welcome in that I posted this!! |
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