Thump, thump, thump. My heart beat loudly as I waited for my turn to compete. Ever since I had first joined the YMCA swim team, I had always dreaded the moment where I would have to race against others in my first swim meet. As I stared at the pool’s surface, thoughts of inferiority and fear raced through my mind. What if I am too slow? What if they laugh at me? What if I cannot keep up? My palms began to sweat as I thought of all the humiliation I would have to suffer through if I came last. As I looked around and surveyed my competition, I felt as if there was not a single person I could beat. Everyone else seemed so much bigger and stronger as I stood there, shivering from the slight wind that occasionally blew through the pool area.

As the moment got closer and closer, I began to panic. Every time I looked at the other boys swim, I could only think of how I could never go that fast. I could not do this. I cannot do this. I am not ready. My breathing became short and irregular and my stomach began twisting itself into knots. Every part of me felt cold, as if the sun had no effect on me, as I stood there, waiting for the inevitable. Each moment felt dragged out as fear enveloped me, closing me off from the outside world. No longer could I hear the sounds of the splashing water or the chattering of the parents and kids. All I could hear were my own dark thoughts, convincing me that I would walk home the loser that day.

Suddenly, I was being pushed toward the diving board by my coach. I had completely forgotten to listen for the whistle and had missed it. All the other boys stared at me from their boards, waiting for me to take my position. I attempted to put on a calm demeanor as I walked towards my starting position. My head pounded and my hands slightly shook as I climbed up the board. My throat was closing up, and I was having difficulty swallowing. I put on my goggles and the world took on a blue tint. I began to count down. 10-9-8-7… On your mark… 6-5-4-3…Get set…2-1 …GO!

I leaped off the board into the water. The water was bitterly cold, and goosebumps popped up on my arms. I began to swim, lashing out my arms in front of me and kicking with my legs. I took my first breath, a huge gulp of air, then went down. The screaming of the crowds of people became distorted as I bobbed in and out of the water, desperately trying not to be last. Bubbles rose out of my nose as I breathed out underwater. As I continued to swim, the initial adrenaline rush faded away, causing me to become aware of myself getting tired. By the time I was halfway done, my arms felt like lead. Each stroke was a pain to make. My breaths became sharper as the need for air increased. A cramp near my rib cage brought constant pain as I moved throughout the water. Swimming through the water, I wasn’t sure if I would be able to accomplish my goal of not getting last.

The buzzer rings, signifying that someone has started their last lap. Only a few moments later, I touch the wall. Am I really that close to 1^stplace? I try to increase my pace, motivated by this thought, however; my fatigue only allows me to go so fast. Suddenly, the flags appear in my line of sight. I’m close! With the last of my strength, I kick out and reach toward the wall. After I touched the wall, I relaxed, happy to have finally finished my race.

I look out across the pool and still saw people swimming. The only boy who had finished as well stood a few lanes from me. I had gotten 2^ndplace. As my mom came out to congratulate me, I realized that in the end, there was really nothing to worry about.