Why I quit the swim team when I was 12

When I was little we belonged to our neighborhood swim club for as far back as I can remember. It’s where I took swimming lessons, swam on the swim team and developed my first summer crushes. That swim club was a huge part of my childhood, and I have lots of good memories that I haven’t thought of in years, until I saw Patty on the news the other night.

Everyone was on the swim team. EVERYONE. They had all age groups from the “shrimp team” to the 18 year olds. Sardis was a very competitive club, and our swim team always did well against all the other clubs in our league (or whatever). Our biggest rival was Rama Swim Club and there was always a HUGE deal made out of that particular swim meet. Unlike the other meets, large groups would caravan over to Rama with cars decked out with our colors and whatnot - and afterwards the whole team would go to a designated restaurant to celebrate our wins. I remember going to Godfather’s Pizza at Park Road Shopping Center, which I believe may have been the first place I ever ate REAL pizza, unlike frozen Totino’s or the like, with tons of parmesan cheese sprinkled on top for good measure. We were celebrating after all, right?

This is me, not age 12, probably more like 8 or 9, circa 1979.

These were exciting times. I loved the swim meets because of all the team spirit - and I loved being a part of that, even if I was just a little kid with little to no impact on the overall standings of the team. Yet, good swimmer as I was (and am - I still think of myself as a very strong swimmer), I was ALWAYS in the same age group with 4 girls who were some of the best swimmers on the entire team - not just the younger kids - these girls were better than most of the older girls (and guys) too. I know for a fact that one of them went on to Olympic trials later (and I believe she married an Olympian medalist too). But at every single swim meet, these girls were the *stars* of the show. They swam year-round, brought in ribbon after ribbon, always in the first heat, in every stroke, in every relay, setting club records year after year.

At the end of the season before I quit, we went to the annual pot luck dinner banquet held at a nearby church, where all the awards for various accomplishments were given out. One of the awards was for “Most Improved” and as Patty gave the speech about the person who was to receive the honor I held my breath because I could have sworn she was talking about ME and I was all ready to go up and grab my trophy. I was shocked back to reality when MY SISTER got the award for “Most Improved”. I was happy for her, I guess, but that really kinda did something to me.

This is me & Ele at a team banquet - not the one where she won the "Most Improved" award - we were a little older at that one. Still looks like I had a premonition of things to come - keeping an eye on those other girls. Me and my bowl cut. Cute little dress though, no?

I’m not a quitter. I’m not. I’ve proven that in the many years since the swim team. I have staying power when others jump ship. Call it being stubborn, call it persistence, but it takes a lot to get me to quit. But quitting the swim team was a turning point for me. I remember the day vividly. There was an assistant coach named Brent who was in charge of my group for practices that year. He was a stocky, cocky guy who was probably only about 18 at the time. He was not the coach that Patty was, but I suppose he was just doing his job. He was working us just about to death one super hot afternoon, lap after lap. I remember being so out of breath at one point, so waterlogged and eyes stinging from chlorine - I just got out of the pool and said, “I quit”. He tried to humiliate me in front of the other kids by calling me a “quitter” - but I had had enough. In my mind, here I was busting a gut to get through a practice, feeling like total shit knowing that no matter how hard I swam I would NEVER be as strong a swimmer as those 4 girls in my age group, and I was done.

I went home that afternoon and told my Mom I was quitting the swim team and I was as serious as a 12 year old could be. I was surprised but relieved when she said I didn’t have to go back. And that was that.

I am proud of myself for trying, and proud of myself for knowing when I was not going to get any further. My sister, on the other hand, starting swimming year round after getting her “Most Improved” award and kept at it well into high school. I started cheerleading the next year. That was infinitely more gratifying and popularity boosting than taking constant hits to my self esteem from those four twits on the swim team.