THE STORMY MIND

Aleah Berengian

The mind is a small ship in rough, cold seas, It is always moving through a storm, And though it might change directions in the breeze, Its heart is always brilliantly warm.

The storm could be calm or in full rage, After the dark night, there’s always a brighter day, It might feel like an animal trapped in a cage, But never in the presence of the sun’s golden ray.

If the sails are torn, and the ship is sinking, Even after the darkest of storms, the battle can be won, And to give up would not be proper thinking, Because it’s worth every scratch to see the light of the sun.

Through the long, bitter nights and the soggy spring days, I would never stop fighting if only to see the sun’s rays.

WHO’S BEHIND THE MOMENT

Gabrielle Landy

I shivered and thought about my strategy. I knew I was going against people taller and stronger than me but my only goal was to get my Junior Olympic time. I took a deep breath in and exhaled. The whistles blew and I stepped up to the blocks not knowing if I would come out with my first Junior Olympic time or crying. I heard a whistle signifying the cue to go and dove into the glassy pool that would give me my future or break it. I swam my first two laps on my time. Ok, I thought, you can swim faster than ever before, trust your training and hard work. My coach’s last words to me replayed in my head, Don’t overthink it, work your turns, do at least three underwater kicks, and don’t breathe every stroke. As her last words of advice played in my head, I realized I was desperate for air. No, I thought, you can not breathe any more than you already have.

I distracted myself with my favorite swimming quote, “Swimming is the only sport where your coaches yell at you for breathing.” Most people do not know how much work makes a great swimmer. The three-hour practices. The dry land workouts. The yoga. The swim diet. When I thought of this I remembered what and who I swim for. All of my hard work had to pay off. I put my head down and kicked even harder than before, though my legs felt as if they could fall off. Desperate for air, I got further into it and I realized my lap counters had messed up their counting.

I looked back and realized that was a mistake and would slow me down. I frowned, I knew they only had to lap count, not do the hard work, and they messed up. I decided to keep swimming and speed up with the little energy I had left. If they messed up, I would figure it out later. I needed to focus. I knew I had lost time and tried to move my arms more and focus on keeping my head down and flip turning smoothly and quickly. I saw that someone had corrected my lap counting and let out a huge sigh of relief. Tiny bubbles came out of my mouth like little, swimming fish. I gave it all I had left and pushed into the energy I didn’t know I had. I only had four laps left. I put my head down and gritted my teeth. I pushed my feet off the wall and moved as fast as a rocket coming out of a launcher. I kicked my feet like a graceful mermaid. I only had two laps left. I kicked and moved my arms like a windmill. One more lap. I lunged for the wall and grabbed it.

I looked up at my time. I succeeded. I smiled so hard that my mouth almost fell off. My entire swimming career had led up to this moment. I swam my first JO time! I thought about the millions of practices and the sacrifices that made the moment worth it. I grabbed the wall and lifted myself onto the deck. When I exited the pool my friends, mom, and coaches hugged me. I knew my times did not define a moment, those who help me get there define my moment: my friends who when I feel frightened make me happy, my sister who makes me laugh when nobody else can, but most importantly my parents who stand at my side until the end.