Work, Work, and More Work

          “Do I have to go today?” I ask my mom. “Yes, now hurry up or you will be late,” she said. “Alright, alright, I am coming,” I find myself grumble. Sighing, I unenthusiastically shuffle my feet toward the car.  It was my first day transitioning to age group level swimming at the North Coast Aquatics Swim Team and I had heard horror stories on how hard they work you and how long some of my other friends had taken to fully transition to this higher-level group.  As we started driving I guess I must have looked a bit nervous because because mom asked, “What’s the matter? You look a little nervous.” “Nothing, it’s just, you know, my first day…” I replied hoping she wouldn’t dig the matter deeper. Thankfully she just shrugged and said “Oh, you’ll be fine, I mean how much different could it be?”  She made it sound easy and somehow I felt compelled to give her the gory details and started with a sarcastic tone  “Not much! Just an outdoor pool so it will be colder by 10 or 20 degrees, and the pool length is twenty-five meters instead of fifteen yards and…” She cut me short and said  “Oh stop that! You’ll be fine I promise.”  I knew she was in no mood for my sarcasm and nothing good would come out of this conversation so I settled back saying “We’ll see”.  We sat in silence for the rest of the car ride.

I arrived at the pool well ahead of time with sufficient time to spare. I sat in seclusion on the bench in the corner, fumbling with my cap and goggles absent-mindedly. Instead of just getting ready for the task at hand, I sat there thinking about what torture was in store for me.  I looked around me to find anything that would cheer me up on that sunny Thursday afternoon, when the clock struck 4:00 PM. Quickly pulling on my cap and goggles, I ran to get ready to jump into the pool. “I’m hopeless" I thought, "even the coach’s jokes won’t lighten my spirits.” As that thought ran through my mind I jumped in the pool.

         The cold hit me like a baseball bat. My instant reaction was shock! “Do they even heat the water?”  I wondered really outraged.  I had no time to ponder that thought because a barrage of bubbles suddenly struck me. When I was looking up to see what it was, a pair of feet had missed my head by inches as the next person dove into the water. Still submerged under water, I quickly pushed off the bottom of the pool in hot pursuit of the person in front of me. After the first couple lengths I said to myself, “It is not as bad as I thought it would be.” Boy, was I wrong.

After the first five or ten minutes or so, the pain started to creep up like moss creeping up the side of a house, slow but steady. My body was not doing so well, and the cold water didn’t really help. After another ten, hard, long minutes, my body was done.  I couldn’t feel my legs and the water seemed heavier and it was like swimming in caramel. I pondered talking a “bathroom break” and coming back rested. I decided to man up, and keep swimming. The worst part for me was that the clock seemed to be moving in slow motion as my body started to stop cooperating.  About halfway through our main set, I was so done and dying to get out, but to my dismay we still had twenty-five minutes left.

Finally when I was at the brink of fainting, the clock struck 5:00PM and I crawled out of the pool. It took every ounce of strength in my body to support my weight on my Jell-O legs.  I was so physically and mentally exhausted that I don’t recall anything other than focusing on trying not to collapse with exhaustion.   My coach yelled out my name and was saying something but it just was lost in the air.  I nodded my head, gave him a brave smile and rushed to meet my mom who was eagerly waiting outside. 

What seems like the most challenging day worked out great in the end.  Turns out my coach was impressed with how well I handled myself and had decided to transition me into age group team full time. I was shell-shocked when I heard the news!  Most of my friends had taken over 6 months to transition and my first day was nothing I can look back on with pride.  Not that I did not favor his decision, but to date I still don’t get the basis for his decision to move me up full time.  I mean, I did as bad as all the other transition kids if not worse and they didn’t get a free pass. Could he have mistaken me for another swimmer?

What ever it was my first day at age group taught me a few good lessons. Number one, don’t take really long bathroom breaks even if you really do have to go because the coach or teacher will think that you aren’t strong enough mentally and physically to even finish one practice or class. Second, get to places early, this shows that you care enough. Finally, don’t think about the outcome, just do your best. As Lance Armstrong said, "Pain is temporary but giving lasts forever!"

A Strong Bond

          We always want what we do not have.  When I was a little kid all I wanted was another sibling.  When my little sister was finally born, I remember that at first I was ecstatic, but later on I started to regret having a little sister.  Through the ups-and-downs of life’s crazy roller coaster, I have made a very special bond with my sister.  A bond that will never be broken.

          I cannot remember a time that I was not begging my parents for another sibling.  When I was a little kid I always asked, “Can I have another sibling now?”  When they complained about how much work was required, I told them that they could always return him or her (At that time I thought that parents purchase babies at the store).  They just laughed and waved the thought away.  After months of persistent irritation my parents finally cracked.  At first I thought they were just kidding, but when they started discussing names, I knew that they were serious.  I was so happy I was unable to move.  I did not know what I was getting myself into.

          My little sister Nisha  was born on November 15, 2002 in Minneapolis, Minnesota.  I remember that day very clearly because my grandmother had come all the way from India and both my parents were in the hospital.  Finally after waiting in anticipation all day, my grandmother and I were picked up in the evening by my dad.  When we got to the hospital I vividly remember wailing from an ambulance siren and something else that I could not recognize.  Whatever it was it was making a horrible sound.  When we finally got to my sister’s room, her loud cries filled the room.  When I first saw my sister I stopped dead in my tracks.  She was so tiny!  After I got over the initial shock, I asked, “Could I hold her?”  My parents were a bit hesitant at first but reluctantly agreed.  The moment I held her in my arms she stopped crying and looked at me wither her large brown curious eyes.  It was at that moment when the first bond of many was made.

          After she was taken home, it was like my whole world turned upside down.  The smelly diapers, constant crying, and worst of all for me, I got no attention from my parents whatsoever.  Before my sister was born I was an only child and got all the attention.  As soon as my sister was born, an enormous responsibility was bestowed on me.  I had to clean up the messes I had made and keep up with all my schoolwork.  I was supposed to be independent.  At first I was doing fine, but then she started becoming a huge distraction.  I could not sleep at night because of constant crying, and worst of all I could not do my homework without being disturbed!  She was fun to play with and all, but it usually ended with someone getting bitten.  Even then another bond was formed.

          As she matured more bonds formed between us.  When I did something she took the blame and vice versa.  For example, on our mantelpiece we have a mosaic bull from Spain.  While swinging my arms I accidentally knocked it over.  “Who did this?” my mom questioned.  “I did”, my sister whispered.  Another example was when my sister accidentally put a pen in the washing machine.  The pen exploded and got the clothes and the washer coated with blue ink.  I took the blame for that.  Most of the time we shared the blame for each other, which worked out great because my parents could not get so mad at us.  This is where several more bonds were made.

          To this day my sister and I have a special bond that has held us together like super glue.  Through good times and bad, my relationship with my sister has only gotten stronger.  We share a very important bond.  A bond that will never be broken.