The Swim As I sit at the acuteness of my seat, goggles in hand, I restlessly gestate my turn. light speed m swimmers, youre up next, calls the lady with the scripts. The thrust sounds loudly to prognostic the start of the persist before me. The water is splashing, crowd cheering, sun shining, and whence at that place was me. I was so nervous I could have limpid detainmenting in that flexible chair because of the heat thrashing down on me. I wanted that blue laurel wreath so tough I would have inhaled water to approach it. clock! Got it! washed-up! Good job! sh come forthed the timekeepers as the checked the times. Youre up. Swimmers suck in your mark: get set... says the announcer. Silence roars by dint of the ears of my memory. The horn sounded, then the crowd went wild, and we were off. Swim...stroke...pull...kick...faster...NOW BREATH! my train of thought ran through my head. Kick...pull...now impudent! again and again I drilled myself as I swam my heart out for the 1st prize thread in the finals. The other girls were not too far empennage me, or so I was told. I dared not to flavor linchpin for fear Id slow myself I heard cheers and shouts as I slowly surfaced for a gasp of air. Just...a little...further... as I stretched out my arm for the wall. Got it!
I shouted in my head. Time! I heard my timekeeper yell. I pulled myself out of the water to dry. It was a close race between Maria Fitz and me, everyone was saying. We would have to wait till the end of the meet to know for sure. Announcing the 100m 15-16 girls race. In 3rd place Ashley Commerce, in 2nd place by a fraction of a second...Maria Fitz, and in 1! st place Sophia Campisi! unblemished the announcer. If you want to get a full essay, order it on our website:
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