I grew up as a swimmer; not a casual swimmer, but a wake up at 4:30 AM to practice for 2 hours before school and then for another three hours after.  It was my identity and looking back, the biggest influence on my life. 

I started swimming when I was 11.  I joined my local pool’s summer swim team.  From the day I got into the pool, I was hooked.  I loved it.  My mom used to have to drag me out of the water each day.  Like everything in my life, I wanted it all.  I decided that first year that I was going to make it to the Olympics and be the best swimmer of all time (nothing like realistic expectations).

I remember watching the summer Olympics one year in my bedroom and visualizing every detail of winning my medals.  I had a Snoopy step stool I used to stand on and close my eyes during the medal ceremony on TV, pretending like it was mine. 

 There was only one problem—I wasn’t very good (actually terrible would be more like it).  That summer I came in dead last or second to last in every race (there was one girl on my team who weighed 50% more than me and she was always competition for not finishing last).

That winter I decided to try out for our prestigious YMCA team.  This team routinely produced nationally ranked kids.  I didn’t make it.  I went to the rag tag 3^rd rate team that winter and came back as a middle of pack swimmer that next summer.   I tried out for the YMCA team the next year and made it!  It was intense and I loved it.  I realized quickly that I didn’t have the natural talent to be a sprinter, so I decided to work my butt off to become a distance swimmer (500yd freestyle and the mile swim were my events). 

I improved tremendously.  That third summer I came back to my summer team and won every race.  I swam for them every summer until I was 18.  I became the star swimmer of my summer league.  YMCA and High School swimming was different.  I was middle of the road, but I knew I just didn’t have the natural talent to ever make it to the elite level.  I would always be the “Rudy” of my team.  It never stopped me from working hard and I had my own victories (completing a 24-hour swim practice and becoming captain of my HS swim team). 

I decided not to swim when I went to college, but it was tough to let go.   I compare it to a bad breakup.  To this day, I still have anxiety dreams about being late for swim practice or forgetting my goggles for a race.  The sport taught me everything I know about hard work and goal setting.  I feel like it is such a big part of who I am today. 

I love watching the summer Olympics.  I can’t get enough of Michael Phelps.  It’s like watching what my 11-year-old self always dreamed of.  Even though I know it’s not my dream being fulfilled, there’s still a small piece of me that’s living vicariously through him. 

I know that I will never compete in the Olympic Games, but that doesn’t mean the dream of going one day has died.  And since I’ve always been one to dream big, maybe I’ll even get to cover it some day!