at the beginning you feel smooth. the man in front of you can’t be going fast enough. you nip at their heels. you don’t check your shoulder. you lean into the corners. time is kind and gives you your recovery.
but then it comes. slowly at first. ripples more than waves. discomfort you can control. but time becomes a little more coy. offering and withholding the recovery you were promised.
still, you start. out fast. three quick steps off the line. hold it. there is nothing but the logo in between the shoulders of the man in front of you. the logo and the burning in your stomach.
then a large wave. huge break. big crash. everything becomes fuzzy. you forget everything you knew about pace or control. everything you knew about form. you throw your body around the corners to the line.