It was the summer of 2007, the sharp scent of chlorine wafting through the early morning air. With the sun a shimmering reflection on the clear blue pool, it was the start of our very first meet. I am the first to admit, I had no idea what to expect. What did IM mean? Was our pool meters or yards? Why did it matter what heat he was in? But as I stood at the edge of the pool, staring at the line of boys crouched into position (taking their mark, as I learned later), there was my fish. Clad in Jammers, swim cap and goggles, a sort of seriousness washed over his innocent little face.
Game on.
He will be the first to tell you that he had no clue what to do. All he knew was what the coach told him to do: swim! His first meet he took a decent place in his heats but collected more sevenths and eighths when all was said and done. And he was glad to have finished at all. However, those little ribbons compared to the shiny medals slung around the other kids' necks was defeating. He wanted to be just like those kids. He wanted more.
As the meets progressed, so did Devin. Practice, practice, practice. His coordination between arms and legs, body and mind, it all started coming together. It was at the last meet, our Colorado River Finals, that I knew we were lifers of the sport. Dripping wet, panting as though he just swam for his life, there was something about his smile; satisfied, dare I say, happy? What kind of mom would I be if I didn't want to keep him in something that made his whole being light up? Yep, we were hooked.
So now, as we prepare for another season of heart-stopping action, I remind myself that it was all my fault. :)
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