Personal Narrative

“The birth of the swimming prodigy”

The applause and the honking coupled with clapping and all manner of cheering are what was making up the surrounding on the fateful evening. My parents, on the other hand, could not believe their eyes and neither could the school principal. On the side of my friends as well as the classmates, they knew too well that this was overly imminent and that it always had been a matter of time. My affection for Football is an affair that goes a long way back since my siblings and would often be at loggerheads with my parents because we would forget our chores while playing. Being the eldest in our family, I would always be at pains in trying to explain to our parents how on earth we could forget to lock the door when going to play in the neighborhood. At school, the situation was not any similar as the teachers would complain that I barely touch the assignments and punishment were the order every other fateful morning. All the efforts the teachers and parents sanctioned to ensure that I stop ‘worshipping’ football did not bear any fruits.

The disagreements at one point got too serious with my parents that they decided to take to a school far away so that I stop disorienting my siblings. The reasoning was that by taking me to a school with little physical education classes would ensure that I have more time with my books and possibly recover the time I had lost playing football. The school was an exclusive art school having a few swimming classes at some points. I all along comforted myself by telling myself that I cannot be that bad when comparing to the former school ganging up with my parents.

The instance I set foot in that school was close to the apocalypse. I could barely stand the choruses as well as the music teachers directing us on the techniques for ballet. At that moment, I could do anything so to be taken away from this hell-hole but my parents could hear none of it, they had made a resolution, and no way was I making them rethink. “Truly this is going to be torturous” I would say to myself every other music lesson. The only time I would get some consolation was during the swimming classes that are the only thing I could find in the resemblance of football in that school. Day in day out l would get better in my swimming even though I never knew anything about floating on water before I was “deported” in that high school.

Previously the school never had a swimming school as there were very few students having interest in swimming considering the school was an exclusive art dominated. My class teacher did note my interest in swimming and decided to offer some lessons simply because the new principal had interest in having a swimming team in school. The zonal swimming competitions were just a month away, with the swimming classes’ teacher spending more time with us we became well versed in the different swimming techniques. On the material competitions day, I was very anxious in comparison to the football where I knew my physicality and confidence were key and more because I had taken part in many competitions. Upon asking around about the competitors I was facing, it was clear they were better experienced since they were coming from school where they adore swimming. The main thing I was sure of is that would have to work hard to beat my speed.

The moment we were told to step forward and lineup we wait to blow the whistle to start, I could feel the adrenaline pumping at full throttle. As I gazed at the finish line, all I could focus on was diving into the pool and giving it my best. The whistle for the start and I felt like I was flying. The feeling of being unstoppable overwhelmed me and foe every thrust I made forward, I knew I was closer to the finish line. The best time in all the competitions that had been taking place was 4:06 in the 200 meters butterfly stroke. In the first 10 seconds in the swimming pool, to my right I could see quite a good number of competitors ahead of me which gave me the impetus to kick the water even harder. My arms are hurting badly with my lungs having an extreme burning sensation every time I took a breath. At this point, I could hear my name reverberating in the walls of the gymnasium into the water, confirming that I was in the process of putting my name in the school’s history records. Once at the finishing point, my time was 4:01, with the second competitor coming in at 4:04, the elation at that point was beyond comprehension. I had done what no one could think of as being possible. I was extremely proud of myself for overcoming the pain to set a new record and above all, excel in a physical competition. Amazingly the national swimming team recruiting agents were in attendance and immediately after the competitions they inquired on whether I was interested in joining the national team. My parents could not believe the news. I have since qualified to represent the country in the Olympics’ 200 meters butterfly stroke competitions.

Every other moment I look back and assess the journey I have traveled up to this point, I am grateful I never altered anything.

Sherry Roberts is the author of this paper. A senior editor at MeldaResearch.Com in urgent custom research papers. If you need a similar paper you can place your order from nursing school papers services.