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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1665285-The-passion-of-a-swimmer
Rated: E · Essay · Sports · #1665285
The feelings I experienced during a swimming race. A school essay
The swim

My body, like a Da Vinci sculpture, was frozen on the starting block. Thunder roared in my ears as the voices from the crowd sneered like demons. Every muscle, tense, in preparation for the battle ahead.
My back was arched and I leaned forward like the tower of Pisa. The water laid bare and free in front of my eyes and my skin prickled in anticipation of the icy touch. Through the cries of the hounds on the sideline, my ears picked up the faint sound of a whistle blowing.
The power was released and my legs pushed me forward like a plane in take off. No more than a second I felt the freedom of a bird. My body cut through the air and all too soon my fingertips felt the bite of the ice queen's touch. Then...silence. Here my mind was a stranger but my body was in familiar territory. It knew every drop of water. The water licked across my body and panic seized my heart. My lungs were screaming and banging at my chest for air like a prisoner for freedom. My mind wanted to open my mouth but my lips refused to brake their embrace. As I clawed my way through the liquid death my head finally broke through and my lungs received the cold air with a thankful gasp. But my body was not yet ready to give in. With one powerful kick my body lurched forward and the battle was on.
The water fought back bravely, pulling at my every being, taunting me with the peaceful silence that it offered. My muscles bit into my skin in an attempt to stop. My lungs were clawing at my ribs and finally my hands felt the cool burn of metal. My head broke through for the last time and my lungs ate the air with ruthless hunger. The race had been won.

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