1,063 days until US
Olympic Team Trials
FINA World Aquatics Championships
Budapest, Hungary
Women’s 200m Intermediate Medley Finals
The water is breathing. At least, that’s how
it seems. I’ve al ways imagined it as a living thing, benevolent
and obedient and faithful. A gentle beast at first, like a pony, but
over time something faster. A thoroughbred, maybe. A cheetah
sprint ing across a flat, grassy plain.
But, of course, the water isn’t
breathing—it’s rippling, with the echoing wakes of eight elite
swimmers as they poured themselves into one last swim, one final
chance to grab the golden ring. Now they’re gone, and in half a
minute, I’ll be right where they were, reaching for my own shot at
glory.
This is my first international competition. I
turned fourteen in May, so I’m the youngest member of Team USA. In
Janu ary, nobody knew who I was, but by my birthday I’d broken the
women’s 200 IM record in my age group twice and fin ished first in
the same event—my best—at World Champi onship Trials. My summer
of speed earned me a lane here in Budapest. All I have to do now is
not screw it up.
Earlier, in the semifinals, I clocked my
fastest time ever in this event, and I’m coming into finals seeded
third overall. I have to beat that by almost a second if I want to
win.
The announcer introduces me over the
loudspeaker. I wave to the crowd but my mind is far away, already in
the pool, charting out my swim. I shake out my limbs and jump to get
my blood pumping, then climb onto the block. I adjust my goggles, my
cap, my shoulders. These little rituals feel solid and reliable. The
rest is as insubstantial as a dream you’re aware of while you’re
dreaming it.
“Take your mark—”
The signal sounds and I’m in the pool. My
mind lags half a second behind my body, registering every breath,
stroke and turn only after it happens.
First: butterfly, arms soaring over the water,
fingertips skimming the surface.
Then: backstroke, concentrating on the lines in
the ceiling while waves boil around me.
After that: breaststroke, stretching, pulling,
kicking, gliding.
And finally: freestyle, bursting off the wall
like a racehorse released from a starting gate.
I go six strokes without taking a breath and
snap into my highest gear for a mad-dash last push, coasting along
the ra zor’s edge of my perfectly timed taper. No thinking, just
doing. No drag, only flight.
My hand touches the wall, and my eyes begin to
burn. It’s over. Instinctively, I look for my coach. Dave’s on
the side lines, frowning, and I think: I blew it.
He notices me watching and breaks into a rare
grin. Hope ful, I turn to the board. I can’t find my name, so I
force my self to look at the top spot. There it is: RAMOS. Number
freaking one.
I
whoop and blow kisses at the people in the stands. They’re on their
feet, chanting, “USA! USA!” American flags billow like sheets.
It cost my parents a fortune to fly themselves
and my sis ter all the way to Europe on such short notice, credit
cards stretched to their limits. I can’t even see them in the
crowd, but I know they’re somewhere in that jubilant crush of
people. My heart feels so full it’s like a balloon about to pop.
As soon as I’m out of the water, Dave wraps
me in a bear hug.
“How do you feel?” he asks.
“Great!” I sigh and shake out my arms.
“Tired.”
“Gold, Susannah,” he says. His voice is
tight with some thing like awe.
Gold. It doesn’t feel real yet—won’t,
until that medal hangs around my neck, until I can hold it in my
hands while the national anthem blooms through the natatorium
speakers with patriotic brio. Maybe not even then. I could have more
wins here, but right now, this seems like more than enough.
“You’re a world champion,” Dave says.
“Next, I’m going to make you an Olympian.”
Excerpted
from Breath
Like Water
by Anna Jarzab, Copyright ©
2020 by Anna Jarzab. Published by Inkyard Press.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:
Anna Jarzab is a Midwesterner turned New Yorker. She lives and works in New York City and is the author of such books as Red Dirt, All Unquiet Things, The Opposite of Hallelujah, and the Many-Worlds series. Visit her online at annajarzab.com and on Twitter, @ajarzab.
Breath Like Water is available from these sellers:
SOCIAL LINKS:
Instagram: @ajarzab
Twitter: @ajarzab
Author website: https://www.annajarzab.com/
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