It's my turn. I grab the tiled edge of the pool with my two hands, back to it, facing the entire length of the shimmering waters. I felt rather shivery. I've tried to do it a couple of times before but I simply didn't make it. I poised to get ready. I shifted my body to face the other end, my goal. Placing my right foot ready to kick from the wall, I sucked in a deep breath and plunged forward.
The water is of right temperature. My hands and arms are outstretched way in front of my body, as I feel the splash take me in. I moved slowly forward. Then I suddenly felt the need to move. I carefully pulled into the water with my right hand, then the left, while flapping my feet altogether. I moved swiftly across the water until I reach my coach. It was then that I realized I have reached the middle of the pool. But instead of calling me to stop, he moved a foot away to give me a wide berth, urging me to move on, way past him, to the final goal, the other end. It was then that I started to hear the shouts of encouragement, the motivations, the yells to continue forward, to swim on. And I finally saw the light of the pool ahead. It was as if I was struggling for so long when I finally saw hope. And so I continued to saunter forward.
I heard myself thinking, more, more, nearer and nearer, just a few feet more. And I finally grabbed the edge of the pool, pushing my head out of the water, and caught air to fill my lungs. There was an explosion. Shouts and cheers erupted from both ends of the pool. Still out of breath, I smiled. I did it. I finally did it. It was my first lap ever.
