By Brian Honicky, Swimming World College Intern
There are 86,400 seconds in a day, over 600,000 seconds in a week, and millions in a year. To the average person, a second may seem like an insignificant amount of time that passes by without a thought, but to a competitive swimmer, a second means everything. When you spend significant periods of time pacing yourself and racing against a clock, you become much more appreciative of the value of time. This has been especially true for me since my championship season two years ago.
The state meet was going to be my time. I was never the swimmer on the team getting the gold medal draped around his neck, as I was usually the one in the background filling in where I was needed. This year was going to be different, though, because I was finally going to make that National Championship qualifying time I had been training so hard for all year, and really, for my entire swimming career.
The 200 I.M. was my greatest chance to finally qualify. I had visualized my race more times than I could count, and pictured how great it would feel to finally reach the next level of competition that I knew I was ready for. Unfortunately, the picture in my mind of competing alongside my teammates couldn’t have been further from reality.
I swam that event four different times that week, and missed qualifying for Nationals by less than a second every single time.
Four times I stepped up on the blocks and four times I looked up to the scoreboard and felt a crushing feeling of disappointment take over my entire body. Nine-tenths, seven-tenths, two-tenths, and most devastating, three one-hundredths of a second all kept me from swimming at the biggest meet of my life.
My season was over, I would be sitting at home while my teammates got onto the bus, and suddenly I knew what failure really felt like. It was as if the pool had beaten me, like the clock was mocking me, like I was drowning in my emotions. It felt unfair; I was cheated of the chance I deserved, and my self doubt almost overcame me.
Photo Courtesy: Robin Sparf
Although it felt like there was no coming out of the horrible funk I found myself in, after time had passed my mindset eventually changed. When the feeling of failure subsided, I was left with an entirely new perspective on swimming. I needed to take a step back from the awful situation I was in and look at the big picture of how the season had ended.
Moments like the one that I experienced make people hate swimming. I may have been blinded by defeat in the moment, but something inside me knew that giving up or quitting was never an option. I learned that I had what it takes to stand up after failure and keep trying to hit my goals not only once, but four times! Most importantly, I learned that I will not let the clock define me.
There are and always will be pressures to make qualifying times, to make finals, or to swim a best time, all of which can be measured in seconds, tenths, and yes, even hundredths. And sure, to this day I’ve tried numerous times to start and stop a stopwatch in three one-hundredths of a second, and I am convinced that it cannot be done.
But no matter how long I obsess over what I could’ve changed, or how incomprehensible I find three one-hundredths to be, what cannot be measured on that stopwatch are the hours of hard work that I’ve put in throughout the past ten years of swimming. Every time I dive in and feel the chill of the pool overtake my body, my overwhelming passion and love for the sport still ignite within me. I still crave the pit in my stomach and the palpable silence of an entire natatorium as I take my last breath before a race.
Perhaps success isn’t whether or not you make Nationals, it’s whether or not you get up and keep trying when you don’t, even if it is your fourth try. What may seem like a failure at the time will eventually reveal itself to be a learning experience. I was knocked down, but I set my mind to the future, got my cap and goggles are ready to go, and refused to take any of my time in the pool for granted, not for three one-hundredths of a second.
Great article – I have watched my son’s heartbreak over 0.03. He swam his event 3 times one weekend going for a cut. I think he has the same sentiments. One thing I can add is it made him a better teammate. He is a great encourager to others because of those failures. He understands .
That swimmer looks familiar…
Been there so many times as a year-round competitive swimmer. It is heart breaking, but in most occasions, I got those cuts swimming alone in time-trials. I swam alone, but I was not alone…my team was there cheering me on and I found it in myself to push that much harder off the block and the walls until i touched the same wall that had been .01-.03 further away each other time I swam the the event. Being left home one year teaches you a lot about choices…namely the one to forgive yourself and move on, or to loath in pity and stifle yourself. Making the right choice then, has made me a better person now.
great great Article!