The same old blood rush with a new touch.

The pool deck will always be crowded.
Noisy children, noisy parents, noisy trainers.
But right this minute, just before your race begins, your ears do something funny, fuzzing out everything around you.
And at the same time you’re so very wonderfully aware. Of every single thing that occurs in your vicinity.
A tensed kind of alertness, mingling with the tension in your muscles.
You unconsciously touch your head, knowing full well they’re there and still, almost helplessly beyond your own control, your hands reach up to check for your cap and goggles.
Better safe than sorry, a faraway voice mutters to you. You don’t want to be the idiot floating around without her main tools of trade.
Someone passes by and asks a few non committal questions.
“Which event? Anymore events today? What’s your best?”
Blah, blah.
They wish you good luck and walk away, you acknowledge them, barely remembering they were ever there.
A whistle blows.
“Participants on the block.”
You’re very aware of the blood rushing through your veins, the way your heart is threatening to hammer right out of your body.
A gory mental image of your heart lying around besides the starting block, flashes before your eyes and a silly, nervous giggle escapes you.
The person on the next block turns to look at you with her lens-shielded eyes. Smiles at you and wishes you good luck. You smile back, trying to remember her credentials.
Swam for XYZ club, placed third in the state meet last year – you’ve beaten her once, you tell yourself.
Lovely girl.
The starter is ready to give the command.
Your heart races faster and the adrenaline pumps through your blood stream as you assume starting position.
“Take your mark.”
You grab the block, remembering the details – the stroke, the competition, who you’re swimming for.
And then there’s the gunshot.
With nothing to do but dive.
And then finally there’s nothing but you.
You, the cold, cold water and the faceless entities on either side of you.
You remember nothing and no one.
Except your stroke and how wonderful this feels.
And somewhere in between the adrenaline-fuelled, frenzied, yet smooth strokes, you congratulate yourself for having taken the plunge.
Because you couldn't possibly have missed this for anything in the world.
-----

Who knew that could be such great preparation for real life?
=P

lol.
Irony is so marvelously idiotic sometimes.