The Race
By Frankie A
Published 3 April 2023
A name.
A name assigned to a lane.
A lane with a number.
A number assigned to a person.
That person is me.
My coach looks at me from the side of the pool.
Her eyes carefully surveying my fellow competitors, like a tiger choosing its pray
Onto the blocks and into the water.
Entering the water only to get out the fastest.
The water feels bitter on my dry skin.
The pool is quickly filled with chaos.
Despite this, I think to myself ‘head down, arms and legs working.’
That pesky black line latching onto me.
Determination on my face, clear as glass.
Tired, but persevering, it’s what keeps me going,
Going until I reach the wall, in my lane.
My lane with a number.
That number next to my name.
My name.
First place.