Joining the swim team was probably the most brilliant idea I’ve ever had, its impact in my life; immense. With my greatest achievement as if tattooed amongst my skin. That “swim team” magnificently ostentatious title became my most celebrated experience thus far.
The biggest benefit was not, the familiarity/skill, the experience of being a part of a team, or the discipline, the vigorous workouts, those intense and exceedingly difficult training because of my inability to swim, I’d signed up for the swim team. An hour and half practice starting at 6 am. I increased to 3,000 yards. Swim meets installed in me, such a thrill, a thrill so reluctantly intense it would leisurely evolve into fear, but swimming highlighted my real passion, the one buried inside me. The core to deeming my lightness of being and discovering my art of escape.
“Fashion is Art, Art is Love, Love is Real”
Swimming became my passion, my life. Having 5 different AP classes to entice myself with, swimming became my relief; my love; my first love a substitute; a substitute to the pressure, hassle, nervous tension and tautness. A sincere epiphany; realizing swimming was an absolute substitute, a substitute for all the self made beautiful disasters; catastrophes; my colossal inadvertencies. I realized this, just two nights prior to starting this essay.
Enacting without a passion is effortlessly inadequate just as an action without a motive is rendered useless. Swimming inspired me to; \llowed me to grow, gain self knowledge, cultivated more comfortable in my skin, my spirit expanded and my passion flourished But now I lack that passion. Looking back at 2009, joining that swim team changed my life. “Our lives are distinguished by opportunities. Even the ones we miss,” now this one was my majorette of major inadvertencies, but now me without my swimming history, is like Lemonade without sugar; an essential ingredient.
If I hadn’t joined that swim team, there is no way I would not have been blatantly oblivious to recognize that my proclaimed my pursuit to be a fashion Stylist, A designer, An Author, being creative designer at my mother's own boutique but establishing an empire of my own beginning with a simple small boutique in Chicago as my vocifering true calling.
Walking up to swim lane was like “time to pretend,” but then it was sheer bliss to dream I learned that, “Our lives are distinguished by opportunities. Even the ones we miss.” Joining that swim team was my opportunity to prove to others, but most importantly myself, that with patience, passion, dedication and in this case vigorous training, self awareness it is inevitable, when you take the chance and allow yourself to cultivate, to develop, you nurture yourself by developing this self knowledge. It’s intense, worthy, and valuable. One of the most important things within this year beside my many experiences was... gaining a deeper slef-respect for myself.
Leaving fall semester, my infatuation began to drain. I’d made my way into fall, with the most progress out of the entire team, dropping 26 seconds on my 100 Freestyle. Jealousy was then introduced. I was offered a place in the District meet, a girl on the swim team later ruined that for me. Insensible about this fact until the summer, It wasn’t until summer league, where I began beating her every time at every event. Every last one of them. Those three 2nd place wins that qualified me for District were over shadowed by the three 3rd place wins, eleven 2nd place wins and my very own 1stplace win, as a part of the Centergie Team Houston. She had been swimming years, swimming was her life; swimming was my leisure pursuit and a part of my job. I pocketed methodologies, snickers, false accusations, and focused on my real craze. I am enthusiast of melodiously mellifluous and neat couture ideology, notoriously swerving its rules.
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