I really enjoyed the stories by Stephen King and Jeanette Walls. The way that they used language to portray some of their earliest memories was entrancing. One of my favorite lines from Stephen King’s story is when he compares his nanny Eula-Beulah to a hurricane when she got upset. He writes “He would have been less at risk from Hurricane Eula-Beulah’s dangerous winds.” I love this line because I feel that this really illustrates the big lady that Eula-Beulah was and how when she got going nothing could stop her, you just had to wait out the storm. Overall, both stories truly show the reader everything that the author went through in those circumstances.

I remember my very first race like it was yesterday. I was a scrawny five year old with a terrible bowl like haircut, I looked like a grasshopper. My body didn’t fit with my age, or maturity, and my slenderness made me easy prey like the grasshopper. I was tall for my age, yet had no muscle and no body fat. I had no idea the water would devour my tiny body and that I would have to fight to finish. My swimsuit was pink with flowers on it, and my goggles were blue. I anxiously awaited my first event ever, the excruciating 25 yard freestyle. They went down the list of heats, and finally it was my turn.

I have four older sisters, while that may sound fun, and it was, it also lead for me, the fifth child, to follow in their footsteps. My parents followed the belief that busy kids didn’t get into trouble and so they threw me in the pool at the age of five, and the moment I could swim 25 years I was put onto a competitive swim team, just like my sisters. Now, when I first started I could barely get my tiny arms out of the water, it was just too difficult, yet I was driven to get better and better. Luckily, after about a year I was able to swim without anyone getting scared I’d drown, but before that could happen I had to endure my first swim meet.

My sister, Molly, was a lifeguard at the local pool and just so happened to be working the day that I and my very first swim meet. I can remember her continuously looking at me, which I realized later on was because she was terrified I would drown, and would then result in mom shinning her. As I stood at the edge of the pool I waved at her, and she gave a slight smile and waved. At that point I knew it was time. I hopped into the water, and immediately felt the cold water as if it sliced right through me. The official blew the whistle and I was off.

I pushed off the wall and started kicking. I kicked, and I kicked, and I needed air so I tried and get my head above the water. I struggled but I finally I succeeded. I continued this trend, but I realized that I was going to have a tough time making it to the other side. I moved closer to the gutter and as I breathed to my side I saw my best friends mom, Mrs. Younger walking along the side of the pool telling me to “Keep it up, you can do it!” So, I pushed through and kept on going.

When I finally hit the wall, I was exhausted but felt like I could do anything. I immediately looked to my sister to see if she saw, and she plopped down in her chair, relieved that I didn’t drown and she could continue to be a part of the family. I hopped out of the pool and was met with a huge hug and claps from the viewers. I had finished much later than the other kids, but I finished.

As years went on, I became a much stronger swimmer excelling in the breaststroke, and not receiving a pity clap when I finished. I continued to swim competitively for 10 years, and remembered that moment every time I wanted to give up. I remembered the accomplishment I felt as a young child, and how great it felt to be happy just to finish. That is what I believe gave me my work ethic to this day, and I have no regrets looking back.