Memoir Project

By Emmanuel Saenz
• During my junior year of high school, I
swam for my high school varsity
swimming team in El Paso, Texas.
Towards the end of the season, I had
qualified for regionals where we all meet
at a bus and drove to the out-of-town
competition.
• On the day of the competition, I
remember jumping into pool,
where it almost felt like jumping
into the water’s of Antarctica. My
muscles ached at me to get out,
but I silenced them down before I
started warming up for the
competition. I could feel as the
water brushed past me with each
stroke, and my body warming up,
fighting the coldness of the water.
• Once I finished warming up, I walked slowly
towards my locker where my gear was. Yet with
every step I took, I could feel the predatory eyes of
everyone checking out their competition,
wondering who they were going to race. All I could
do was keep my head down and avoid their
intimidation. Letting their stare get into your head
would make your stomach turn upside down, and
before you’d know it, you had already lost the race.
• Once I was in my seat, all I could do was
think, and think, and think, only focusing
on my own race. I would replay the
same vision over and over, where I
would swim the 50-yard freestyle, and I
would come out victorious. Headphones
completely covering my ears, constantly
looking at the event number, making
sure I wouldn’t miss my race.
• Repeatedly, I would replay the same vision.
Counting each stroke as I imagined what angle
my arm would enter the water, and what
velocity I should be pushing off the walls of the
pool. The race wasn’t always between my
competitors, but within myself. I had to master
the ability to keep my own composer and be
able to calm my own demons, before they
crawled up my spine, and took over my body.
• I looked at the clocked and I was almost up. I
head over to the blocks where swimmers climb
up a small platform before their race. As the
referee sounded the first whistle, 8 swimmers,
in each lane, climb on their blocks, including
me. We look left and right, checking out our
competition before racing against each other.
Then, the second whistle was blown, and it
was time for us to set up. The crowd goes
silent, as if they have suddenly vanished. The
water remained still as if were dead. Tension
building up as everyone waits for the final
signal. Then without a notice, a siren was
played, and everyone pushed off the blocks,
and dove into the water.
• We all dive into the water and create enormous waves, enough to
splash at the audience. We all sprint towards the other wall where
half of us reach before the other swimmers could. Half of us flip
together before hitting the wall and create whipping sound while
pushing off. We continue sprinting towards the finish line. As we all
continue racing, a couple of the swimmer’s stars slowing behind,
while the others accelerated. Closing into the finish line, you can see
two swimmers approaching it, a race between me and a senior from
Midland, Texas. As me and my competition reach halfway, we start
accelerating together, creating more splashing sounds and waves. We
reached a point where we couldn’t see each other anymore because
of how hard our hands were hitting the water.
• Within a couple of seconds, we both neared
towards the finish line. We both take one final,
powerful stroke, enough to almost send a small
tsunami towards the other side of the pool.
Without gasping for air, everyone turned their
attention to the score board. My competitor had
gotten first place by 0.03 of a second. An inch
was the only difference between 1st and 2nd
place. I quickly look up at the audience and saw
everyone cheering and jumping from
excitement. We had created such an intense
race, that we even got them to jump off their
seats. They weren’t cheering because my
competitor had won, but because how excited
they were to see the outcome of the race.
Although I had gotten second place, nothing felt
better than being beaten with honor, because
the race wasn’t what mattered for me. What
mattered was the audience’s reaction, and their
reaction felt much more rewarding than a
medal.