Swimming Fantasy

I set my purple backpack down in the girl’s locker room of the Truckee Community Pool.

I pull on my navy blue suit and stretch my cap over my head. 

I grab my goggles and walk out of the moldy locker room.

I hear a faint voice traveling from the back of my head, “Swimmers up on the blocks!” I step up onto the grippy diving block, primed for the 500 Free. The British voice booms again: “Swimmers take your mark!” I bend over and finger the edge of the block. 
My heart sprints.

And then I hear it: the long blow of the horn. I spring off the block and plunge into the 2012 London Summer Olympics. When I emerge from my streamline, nothing is faint anymore. I hear hundreds, thousands of people yelling my name!

I accelerate into freestyle, a stroke I’ve worked on for years but have never perfected… until now.

Flip after flip after flip, I swim the 500.  20 laps of power, commitment, serious strategy.  I will pace myself the first ten laps and then go hard the last ten.

150 yards in, I look to my right and see only the fingertips of Kate, the fastest girl in the gold group. She is falling desperately behind.

And then I look to my left and see… Michael Phelps!! 
He struggles, too, to keep up with… ME!!!!!!

Seeing his limitations just makes me faster.

On my last lap, I go all out. When my hand slams the wall, the finish, I have to wait 10 minutes for Kate and then another 16 seconds for Michael.

We all shake hands.

I grip the rim of the pool and sink under a few feet then push my body up out of the water. 

My signature move.

Standing on the slimy deck of the pool, water dripping down my legs, I look around. 

I see a few scattered cars in the parking lot.  

Three moms chat while their kids learn to swim at the shallow end. 

A teenage lifeguard is texting.

I remove my Truckee Tahoe Swim Team cap. It yanks my hair.  

 I walk back into the dingy locker room. Followed by Kate.




By Eleanore