Last One, Fast One

This may get emotional, but let's hope it doesn't.  I'm coming to a point in my swimming career that I thought would never come: the end.  In two days I may be swimming in the last meet of my career.  Of course, there will always be Masters swim meets (teams for the crazies like me who choose to keep swimming after college).  But it will never be the same again.  And I've finally figured out that that's okay.

Proud of my win at the Bunkey Lewis Meet at age 10

On Saturday morning I'll step on to the block in Richmond with the hopes of making my Olympic Trials cut.  With my time being a 1:02.20 and the time for Trials being a 1:01.99 I know I'm close.  I also know that if everything goes right I can make the cut.  It's everything I've worked towards for my whole life.   It's what has propelled me forward all year, even after the "Oh you almost had it" and the "Man I thought you were going to get it" comments that all came from the most supportive places and the most supportive people in my life.  The cut is what has forced me for the last year to dive into the water early in the morning and come back later that night to swim again, while my friends figuratively hung their suits and goggles up for good.

My fortune tonight!  Hopefully it is foreshadowing!

But it's more than that.  It's more than joining both my brother and my mother as Olympic Trial qualifiers (Chris in 2008 and my mother in 1972).  It's the love I still have for the sport.  It's the respect I have for the water and the feeling you get after a practice that kicks your butt.  On Saturday I hope I can get up on the block knowing I still have the love for the sport that I had when I joined my club team, Curl-Burke, when I was only six years old.  I hope I can channel that little girl and realize, win or lose, it's been quite a ride.  Swimming has provided a life-long need to exercise.  It's provided me with a competitive drive and an intense work ethic. It's given me some of my best friends and allowed me to travel to places like Australia, Luxembourg, Germany and Iceland.

Check out that dive!

My Mother: The Bathing Beauty

I don't remember learning how to swim.  I don't remember fearing the water.  I do remember my mom giving swim lessons and being the jerk that I am, I remember pulling the children's feet under the water.  I'm sure they were terrified and I was probably younger than them which only added insult to injury.  But what I remember most is the first race I ever competed in.  I was probably four or five and I was super excited that I would be joining my brothers as a big kid swimmer.  Finally I was old enough to compete in a meet.  I'm sure I was overly confident and fearless as all little kids are before they learn better.  This particular meet was called "The Guppy Meet" and when I dove in I felt great.  But once I took that breath (I was super proud I could side breath) I saw everyone yelling at me.  In reality, they were cheering, but to a little kid it doesn't look that way from the water.  I panicked.  I mean I really panicked and I was not the type of kid you wanted panicking in the water.  I had this bad habit of passing out every time I cried when I was little.  Don't ask me why.  It wasn't for attention, I think I just got a little too worked up and stopped breathing.  Seeing that I had stopped swimming, was clutching the lane line for dear life and was crying (probably perilously close to passing out) my mom ran from across the pool in her all-white outfit (that's love) and dove into the water to save me.

It wasn't exactly the defining moment of my swimming career, but hey, I finished the race.  And I was proud of myself.  Even though I didn't win the race (not even close) I hadn't given up either.  At five years old, I learned a lifelong lesson that serves me well today: Don't give up.  No matter how scary or hard things seem, dealing with the regrets of not trying are both harder and scarier.

Via Pinterest

Being two days away from my last chance at making the 2012 Olympic Trials, I just want to thank everyone that has helped me get here and everyone that has supported me along the way.  I would have quit years ago if it weren't for the people who have believed I can achieve my goals (both in and out of the water).  Thanks guys and I love you!

Here's to making the cut and enjoying the process!

My brother (Chris) and me at 2010 Swimming Nationals in Irvine, CA

Welcome!

 In "From Barbies to Bills" I hope to explore the beautiful, if not painful experiences that a post-graduate experiences in the year (or years) after college.  I really should have started on this blog a year ago.  The therapeutic benefits from writing about the painful transition of a Division I pampered, college athlete to the harsh reality of becoming an "adult" would have served me well throughout the year.  But better late than never, right?

 It seems like only a moment ago that I was obsessing over Barbies.  Obsession isn't even a fair word for what I felt towards Barbies. Truthfully, I was out of my mind consumed with the plastic, anatomically incorrect dolls.  So much so, that when I was little my dad would try to convey his parental lessons with them.  Phrases such as "I never want to date" or "Boys are gross" or "One day, I hope to join a convent" were commonly heard in a mock-girly voice from my "man's man" of a father.
With what seems like the snap of a finger I went from a carefree child, completely oblivious to monetary value, to the owner of a variety of different bills (and not the good kind).  I went from obsessing over the miniature dolls to obsessing over how I would pay any one of my bills.

Above: Me at 2 years-old wishing I was a "grome up" (which is how we said "grown-up in our house)

Money is a concern for any recent college graduate.  However, I added a little twist to the usual scenario.  I decided to put off getting a job for a year and pursue my dreams.  One of which was traveling to an orphanage in Romania last August.  The other dream was pursuing my goal of making the Olympic Trials time in the 100 butterfly.  In contrast to what I've always known, this time swimming would not pay.   Every other step in my life came with a benefit from swimming.  While in high school, I knew I'd be able to get into schools with help from my swimming.  While in college, I wasn't drowning in debts I couldn't afford because of my swimming scholarship.  But this year, it was different.  Suddenly, I had to figure out how to eat healthier, yet cheaper.  I had to figure out how to swim 9 times a week in an unknown city where I knew no one.  In other words, it was time to grow up.

Hopefully through my "From Barbies to Bills" blog I can convey the joys and consequences of following your dreams and the pros and cons of growing up in an age where advancement takes precedence over following ones dreams.

Enjoy!