by Rosie Hutchison

“Swimmers, take your mark…” I bend down and grab the edge of the block with my two hands, shifting all my weight to my front leg, ready to launch myself forward at the sound of the starter’s beep. My mind is absolutely racing. I can do this, I tell myself. I am ready. I can do this. BEEP. I fly forward and dive into the ice cold water…

Silence.

I break out at the surface of the water and race like I never have before. Fifty-three seconds later, it’s all over.

Ten years later, it’s all over.

One decade ago (gasp!) in 2003, nine-year-old Rosie decided to take her swimming career one step further than the Homestead Hurricanes and join the Kansas City Blazers. Man did I think I was cool. I was that kid who put the Blazer logo tattoos on my face (and occasionally my butt) when I got a best time. I would give myself Sharpie tattoos saying stuff like “Eat, Sleep, Swim” and “Eat my bubbles.” I made friends with the weirdest swimmers at meets, and I am best friends with some of those weirdos today. Years later, here I am, finished with my last swim season ever. Considering how much I’ve cried and complained about swimming and all it entails, I’ve recently realized I’m going to miss it more than I can accurately say.

The funny thing about swimming is that it is the most time-consuming, physically demanding, complaint-worthy sport I’ve ever encountered, but it has been the best experience of my life. There’s nothing quite like the feeling you get in the bullpen before finals at State, walking out with your earphones in, blasting “Stronger” by Kanye West, so nervous you can’t feel your legs, not knowing what’s going to happen next. Nothing compares to hearing your teammates/Dad/friend’s mom/coach cheering their hearts out for you as you mount the blocks for the most intense race of your life. Nothing feels better than looking up at the scoreboard and being surprised at how fast you just swam. The best of all, however, is walking past your teammates after a race and knowing they are proud of you, no matter how disappointed you feel in yourself.

I would like to take this sentence to thank every single one of my teammates, past and present, for being the best swim buddies a Starfish could ask for. I am SO lucky to have been able to share my sport with you, and I have learned invaluable lessons from swimming that I could never be taught in a classroom. (Pause: can we just take a second to realize that I’m being serious and sentimental and not even sarcastic right now? This never happens…what the heck?)

It’s a really good thing Mizzou has the best rec center in the US and an Olympic-esque pool that I can swim in whenever I want in college. (Not like I actually will, but I’m just going to tell myself that.) Anyways, it’s going to be strange and uncomfortable yet awesome but dangerous having so much free time the next 3 months of high school because I won’t have to spend 3 1/2 hours of every afternoon at practice. I’m going to have to find a new hobby/actually try hard in school now that I don’t have a sport to dedicate my life to. And I’ll need to learn how to eat normal sized meals since I won’t be burning major calories anymore… Dangit. But hey, at least I don’t have to wake up at 4:50 a.m. in the summers anymore!

Seriously though, if the sport of swimming was a person, I would give it a huuuuuuge hug and a tell it thanks for the good times and for giving me a rockin’ bod (just kidding… actually not really). Retiring from swimming is going change the way I live, but I guess huge changes are just part of growing up. So, on to the next big thing… COLLEGE. Wish me luck homies!