The pep talk, the time when my coach, Tom, told my team and I what we were going to swim. We were all anxious; this was our biggest meet of the year against our rivals, Minnechaug. I was sitting on the bleachers twiddling my thumbs as my coach read the first event.

He said, “The people swimming in the 200 IM are Tim, Gabe, and Nick.” Personally I did not want to do that but I have no say in that. I didn’t pay attention in the second event because I know I wasn’t going to be in that, and then he started the third event. “Slav and Nick”, Tom turns to me, “Now Nick I discussed this decision with Jimmy and he thought it would be a good idea because we need him for the 100 breast so he can beat Tommy, but you also need to beat who you’re racing even if it’s Tommy.”

I replied “Ok, but how do you want me to swim it?”

“By swimming your heart out”, is what he said. The pressure was set on me; I needed to win that race.
It was the day of the meet. We were all on the bus, and of course me being the way I am started to panic. My friend Reiley was sitting next to me; she has a calming demeanor. I kept ranting about how I was only a freshman and Tommy was a senior and this race would be so bad and that I wouldn’t be able to win. Reiley calmed me down and helped encourage me to pump me up for the race. During warm ups all I could think about was that race.

I was thinking “What if I don’t win? Would Jimmy be mad at me? Would everyone be mad at me? But what if I won? Would Tommy hate me? Not that I even care if he does but would they try to DQ me in some way?” I was going crazy and just wanted to get the race over with.

Finally it came time for me to swim that dreaded race. Walking up to the block all I could hear was the murmurs of the crowd. The smell of chlorine filled my lungs. I looked to my left and saw the Minnechaug team dressed in blue, looking to my right I saw red and black, my colors, the ones the reminded me that I had support for this race. A couple of my friends wished me good luck from the other end of the pool. I was behind the block stretching when Tommy came up to me and gave a hand shake and wished me good luck. Now there was not much of a difference between Tommy and I, we are both about equal height around five feet ten inches with an athletic build. My heart started to race, just like I was going to have to do. The whistle blows, we step up, and time stops. I started to panic deep inside, but I needed to suppress that and focus on task at hand, BEAT TOMMY!

The starter’s voice said “Take your mark.” I bend down and grip the block and make my knuckles turn white. Then “BEEP!” I shove off the block and slip through the water as I enter the pool. As I was kicking under water I saw out of the corner of my eye that Tommy started to get a lead on me, I kicked harder. Coming up for my first breath was refreshing; I got my strength back to catch up to him. We were closing in on our flip turn. The wall came and I turned as fast as my body would let my no matter how much pain there was. I pushed off that wall like a torpedo.

This was it the last lap; I had to give it all or nothing. When I came to the surface and took my first breath I saw my team and all the parents from my team screaming at the edge of the pool and flailing their arms. The sight of Tommy next to me couldn’t be seen because I was making so much white water, so I had no idea if he was ahead, behind, or right next to me. I did not care; I kicked and moved my hands as fast as I could. The wall was getting closer and closer, just a few more strokes. With a powerful force the tips of my fingers made contact to the touchpads.

Lifting my head out of the water I heard roaring but it wasn’t coming from the side that I wanted it to. I looked at the clock and saw why, I didn’t win. Tommy beat me by .12 seconds. The difference of that is about it the size of a fingernail. I was so disappointed with myself. Tommy and I shook hands and we got out the water and parted out separate ways. When I got back to my team they all came up to me and tell me good job and all the phrases that are supposed to be said. I went straight to my coach to talk to him about it.

All he said was “That was a good race and you shouldn’t be disappointed that you lost because that was close and you are only a freshman almost beating a senior. You have potential and I want to work with you next season to improve your strokes and make you faster so next year you’ll blow the competition out of the water, hell there won’t even be any competition for you because you’ll be so fast! Now go sit and rest.”

When I started to ascend up the bleachers my friends flooded around me. They all told me good job and said that I shouldn’t let the loss get to me, but I did. I was depressed for the rest of the meet I kept wondering what I did wrong. I figured it out it was my start, I was too slow. I did not let my depression get to me in my other races that meet, I prospered in those. The meet finally came to an end filled with blood pressure rising races, including my own, which I was thankful for. We lost two races and one of them was mine, I kept beating myself up for losing telling myself that if I did win then maybe we could have lost by less or maybe we could have won because it could have inspired Jimmy, who lost the other race, to win. The bus ride home I got my mind off things and was singing songs with my friends at the top of my lungs. Now I do not even care about that race anymore what happened in the past stays in the past. I have moved on and trained harder and I will be able to win all of my races this year.