swimming - quotes and descriptions to inspire creative writing
I could swim forever, dive forever, be here in this underwater world forever. There is something about the motion of it that becomes natural after a while. I'll always need the air and the sunlight, to feel the saline water wash over my skin and through my eye lashes, but there's a reason I was sent here. And so, I swim while I can, rescue while I'm strong, rest when I must. There are times I want to be saved, to give up and await strong arms to pull me from this struggle, then I remember who I am and keep going. I am the rescuer, the swimmer.
Eddy didn't swim so much as drown slowly. Every few strokes he was swallowing the chlorinated water and within metres he was fully submerged. Sometimes his clawing back to the surface was so dramatic a lifeguard would appear next to him and drag him out. After another lecture about taking lessons his Mom had no money for he'd be allowed back in. Next summer he wanted to get on a full scholarship survival course, but swimming was mandatory. His teacher was YouTube and his trunks from the thrift store, but his determination was pure gold.
It was cold when Sally woke up, cold in the car and now freezing by the poolside. She had wanted to be in this team, begged for it even, but now she just wanted to be in bed. With only a slight hesitation she dived in right behind the swimmer in front and let her limbs do the thinking for her. She was so good now that she cruised along the lanes for two hours with barely a reduction in speed even at the end. Competition medals cluttered her bedroom and her parents boasted in their subtle way at every and any opportunity. They were proud, that was nice. But how to tell them she was bored of it? That she wanted her weekends for hanging out with friends? She could hear that conversation already - "Sacrifice, blah, blah. Great, blah, blah. Scholarship, blah, blah."
Tammy made the turn for her thirtieth lane. In the water she had no worries, no homework, no boyfriend, no nagging Mom or irritating brother - it was just her and the cool water. She moved with robotic precision but organic fluidity, stroke after stroke nailed to perfection. After years in swim club she wasn't going to compete anymore, but the pool was her therapist. Eighty laps and she was stress free and ready for a day in the office.
Tina wanted to dive in cleanly leaving no splash and cleave the water with powerful rhythmic strokes until she reached the other end. What happened in practice just never turned out that way. Spray flew outwards by several feet and her belly stung, then with flailing splashy strokes she slowly made progress down her lane. She knew kids her age were normally like this, but she wanted so much to be special, to outshine her sister the super-swimmer. With each attempt her frustration came closer to boiling point. She had to be perfect. She had to get this.
I could drown in this air, suffocate in the chlorinated humidity that rises above the water. People move past, trapped in their own heads as I am in mine. Children laugh, tantrum, cry or whine. I see their parents react: placating, frustrated, sometimes warm. I could be on Mars or else invisible, but I'm neither. I'm right here, bare feet on the mopped white tile. Once I was here at this pool so early in the morning the surface was perfectly flat, glassy. Not now though, now it's choppy; the mosaics of the walls and the beach paraphernalia hanging form the rafters are reflected in tiny fragments of colour that remind me of the autumn to come in a few months. Somehow I wonder if those fall leaves will ever come. Each day draws out so long and thin that I am surprised when the sun finally sets.
My eyes fall to the surface once more. I want to be in that water, under it, gliding dolphin-like to the tiles below more than my next breath. The coolness will bring me to the present like nothing else. In those perfect moments I can forget the past, cease to analyze the future. I wont worry about who I am, who I will become, who I might never be. In its watery embrace there is only the present, nothing more. Underneath the surface I can escape the dull drag of gravity. It is as free as I've ever experienced in my seventeen years; nothing else comes close.
The leaves turned golden weeks ago and still we go to the outdoor pool. There is no getting in slowly. The only way is to dive in and let the cold water surround you all at once, hoping the heat from your muscles will be enough to keep the shivering at bay. The chlorinated soup is cold enough to make my lips blue even with non-stop front crawl. I pull myself onto the side, limbs shaking. The season for swimming with the sun on my face is over.
Freestyle, breaststroke, backstroke, butterfly, dolphin kick, individual medley, medley relay, doggy paddle, scuttling.