I am about two and a half feet above the water; I stare at it, and it stares right back at me. My goggles give the water a crystal blue tint that taunts me; the water thinks it is better than I am. From the height of the block, the black tile that runs down the center of every lane appears to me as a runway. In just a few seconds I will be moving down that runway, trying to take off above the water. My eyes will be focused on that tile, to make sure I am in the center of my lane. I can see the water grinning and laughing at me now; I am standing on the block with my knees almost to the point of shaking. The water can tell how nervous I am. Right now, it is so calm and smooth, beckoning me to dive in. But in just a few seconds, the glassy blueness will be turned into a churning white mass as the swimmers churn through it, causing a wake to run across the pool. For now, it is still laughing at me though, with my toes tightly wrapped around the edge of the block, my bod!
             y coiled up like a spring ready to explode. As if I did not have enough to worry about with my race coming up, and the calmness the pool, the silence of the pool area adds to it. There is absolutely NO noise, which amplifies the tranquility of the pool.
             The water is not the sole enemy I have in my race, because it is working with the time clock to destroy my race. Right now it is set at 0:00, which seem so empty and heartless. It does not like to feel so hollow, and once it gets to start, it does not want to stop. Somehow the clock has talked to pool into being its partner in crime, and they are both against me. "This is the 50 yard freestyle. Swimmers, take your mark.."
             BEEP. My body releases, my legs exploding from their coiled position. My head darts up, my eyes searching for the imaginary hole I am going to slide my body through. Once I find it, my head is tucked between my arms, and my hands and arms stiffen to prepare for the entry into the...