From National Champion Swimmer to Proud Swim Meet Mom

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It’s funny how life can flip in an instant. One moment, I was a national champion swimmer and collegiate coach, and the next, I found myself cheering on my son at his first swim meet. It’s wild how quickly time flies!

When my son Ethan started his swim lessons at age 2 at the local YMCA, he was adamant about never joining the swim team. “No racing for me!” he would declare, year after year, as he slowly advanced through the program. Even during our time in Abu Dhabi, his progress was steady but unhurried, and he remained firm in his anti-race stance.

Ethan has always taken his time — he took nearly 36 hours to make his grand entrance into the world! I often joked with my coaching friends that he was destined to be a distance swimmer, not a sprinter.

But then, just before we returned to Vermont, Ethan surprised us all. Out of nowhere, he announced he wanted to join the swim team as soon as we got home. Before I could contain my excitement, I signed him up online. “BOOM! You’re in!” I exclaimed, trying to hold back my glee.

Watching Ethan at his first practice was incredible. I was amazed by his natural endurance. He swam lap after lap, never speeding up or slowing down, and he never complained. He did bump into lane lines a few times, but he just shrugged it off. He practiced diving from the starting blocks, resulting in a few belly flops, but he seemed to enjoy it nonetheless.

Then came the day I’d been waiting for — Ethan’s first swim meet. He had the cutest little smile as he approached the starting block for the 50-yard backstroke. As tears welled up in my eyes, I reminded myself to focus on two roles: being a supportive mom and a timer for the meet.

The other parents had no clue about my swimming past — the Florida State High School Champion, National Record Holder, and Olympic Trials Qualifier. So when the head timer showed me how to work the stopwatch, I kept my mouth shut, not wanting to reveal the years I spent obsessing over that little device.

As Ethan swam, his strokes were steady. He stayed in the center of the lane, for the most part, but he made a mistake by flipping onto his stomach halfway through and got disqualified. I felt a twinge of anger toward the official but reminded myself that swimming, like life, is often unforgiving. I couldn’t help but think about the valuable lessons swimming has taught me and how they might shape Ethan’s journey.

Next up was the 50-yard breaststroke, an event I loved. Despite finishing last, Ethan radiated happiness. He even shook hands with the other swimmers, who kindly waited for him to finish. Unfortunately, he was disqualified again for not touching the wall with both hands. I shed a few more tears, not for the disqualifications but for his pride in himself and the joy he found in simply racing.

As I reflected on my own swimming journey, I couldn’t help but think of my parents, who supported me through every high and low. My mom was always there for those early morning practices and meets, balancing it all with her full-time job. I also thought about my dad, who remembered all my times and records. He’s no longer with us, and now I find myself in his shoes, trying to remember every moment of Ethan’s experience.

For Ethan’s final race, he took on the 50-yard freestyle, my signature event. As he walked to the block, he casually mentioned he was ready for a hot dog. Despite that distraction, he swam well and finished strong, without any disqualifications this time. I was bursting with pride, repeating, “I’m so proud of you!” as he made his way to the snack bar, shrugging off my praise.

I rummaged through my wallet and found just enough for one hot dog. I chuckled at how our experiences, whether in the pool or at the Taj Mahal in India, were all part of this beautiful journey of parenthood. It all felt absurdly wonderful, and I couldn’t help but laugh at the memories we were creating.

I asked myself, who gets so emotional at a kids’ swim meet? The answer was clear: someone who spent her youth chasing speed and waves, now watching her child dip his toes into those same rewarding waters.

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Summary

This heartfelt narrative reflects on a mother’s journey from being a champion swimmer to supporting her son at his first swim meet. Through challenges, disqualifications, and emotional moments, she finds joy in watching her child embrace the sport, reminding her of the lessons learned from her own swimming days.