Elizabeth Doyle Carey - Jenna Tests the Waters

A Bright Idea

All I ever wanted was to be an Olympic swimmer. Glory, honor, excellence, patriotismit all appealed to me. I always pictured myself up there on the top step of the podium in my Ralph Laurendesigned team warm-up suitred, white, and blue, of coursewaving at the crowd, bowing my head for the gold medal, receiving my flowers, and wiping away a modest tear as The Star-Spangled Banner played over the sound system for all to hear. The crowd is cheering for me: responsible, reliable, hardworking Jenna Bowers, from Westham, Massachusetts, as I win the worlds highest athletic honor.

More than anything, more even than winning, I love to swimthe relaxation of the pace and rhythm, the feeling of power as I slice through the water. Its hypnotizing and it takes me outside myself for a while, and then it brings me back to earth with a post-workout euphoria. Its what Im good at, and that skill defines me.

But over the years, my joy in swimming has been replaced by times and stats and schedules, endless meets and practices, unglamorous travel and early mornings, jockeying for position on my own team, and monitoring my standing in my league. If this is all there is, then my Olympic dreams are wavering.

I swim at the Y here in Westham on Cape Cod, where Ive been on the team for the past five years. Id like to say Im the star of the team, because I was for a really long time. But about six months ago, some new girls joined up, and either they were better or I got worse, and now Im number three or maybe two on a really good day.

At first, this stunk. I hated being seeded third and watching my coach fall all over these two girls the way shed once fallen all over me. (I think once my coach realized she wasnt going to be an Olympic swimmer herself, she decided the next best thing would be to discover and coach an Olympic swimmer.) It had been fun being the star. But then it started to bother me that when Id lose, which was rare, everyone would want to pick apart why Id lost: my coach, my teammates, my parents, and even my brothers! Theyd say my breathing was off or my flip turn was too open or Id been slow off the block. I wanted to say to them all: Fine! Then you get in the pool, and lets see how you do it!

And when I started losing more (not badly, by the wayjust not winning all the time, like usual), there was more criticism and more hard training, and right then the new girls showed up and, wellafter a while, it was kind of fun watching someone else get ripped to shreds after a bad race, and seeing someone else do twenty extra laps for a change. The heat was off, and I felt a lot cooler.

Right about then, maybe a month ago, I saw the first flyer.

It said: Be a hero! Learn to save lives! Westham Junior Lifeguards tryout info coming soon! and it gave the website for the town lifeguarding program so you could learn more.

But, most importantly, it was being tacked up on the bulletin board at the YMCA by a really cute high school guy named Luke Slater (not that I actually knew him; I just knew who he was). Physically, he wasnt my type. He was kind of short, and I am tall. He was a little too old for me, and he had white blond hair, while I like guys with dark hair, but his big green eyes were friendly as he called out, Come on out for tryouts! Were going to post the official date in the next couple of weeks, okay? And then he grinned at me, so I had to smile back.

Okay! I replied, because what else could I say?

Id heard about kids at school who trained to be Junior Lifeguards; they were always kids I admired but didnt really have time to hang out with because of swimming. When I was younger, we had a babysitter named Molly who did the training every summer and then became an ocean guard. She was so nice and pretty and cool, and on the rare summer weekends when I didnt have a swim meet, Id head to Lookout Beach for an afternoon where Id see her at work. Shed sit up high on the lifeguard stand in her red Speedo one-piece and tight ponytail, a whistle around her neck and zinc on her nose. It was like she was the boss of the beach. Shed tell kids what they were and werent allowed to do and blow her whistle and everyone would obey her. But shed always wave at me and ask about swim team and how my brothers were. It was like being friends with a celebrity; I was psyched when people would see her talking to me from way up high on her lifeguard throne.

At the end of her shift, the boy lifeguards would often tease her and throw her in the watereveryone would laugh and yell. It looked like so much fun! Like a movie of what being a teenager should be like. Handsome boys joking around with pretty girls in the sunshine at the waters edge, and getting paid for it too! I hadnt seen her much since shed left for college three years ago, but whenever I thought of lifeguards, I thought of Molly Cruise.

For a while, Id forgotten about Junior Lifeguards. Then today, a Monday, everything changed. Todays swim practice at the Y started off like any other: I biked over from school, changed into my suit in the locker room, stashed my stuff, and grabbed my goggles and towel. But on my way out to the pool room, I saw a new flyera big poster, really.

I felt a little butterfly in my stomach flutter around, but I pushed it away. I had a swim meet up the Cape this weekend, so there was no way I could attend the tryout. Too bad.

In the pool room that day, we had our team meeting on the bleachers, then everyone warmed up and jumped in the water. We worked on our weakest stroke first, and I couldnt stop thinking of the lifeguard tryout as I did the breaststroke up and down the pool. I wondered whether the test would be on certain strokes, or if it would be more about endurance. Im in really good shape (not to brag), so I knew I could ace an endurance test. If I had to pick a stroke, Id probably pick butterfly. I bet that would stand out, since most people cant do it.