A Stroke

Whitney lunged forward, reaching out as far as she could. She gasped for air and pushed forward again. Every breath felt like a stab in the heart. She had been practicing for weeks for this race. Every mind-numbing lap in the pool had been in preparation for this moment.

Whitney wondered where Lexie was in the race. Lexie had been Whitney’s competitor for as long as she could remember. Lexie was an excellent swimmer. She had broken most of the school records—and she had only been swimming for three years!

Just over her shoulder, Whitney caught a glimpse of a red swimming cap. It was Lexie alright, and Whitney realized that she was just a stroke ahead of her. Was that really possible? Whitney’s hopes soared. She poured her strength into her next stroke.

“Where is the end of the pool?” wondered Whitney. She could feel the intensity of the water being pushed back and forth by the swimmers. She slapped her hand on the wall and jumped out the water gasping for air.

Whitney kept her eyes glued to the scoreboard, waiting for the times. Yes! She had done it! By a mere second she had done it—but it was enough. She climbed out of the pool and looked over at Lexie.

For the first time, Lexie had the kindest look on her face as she said, “Good job, Whitney!” All of a sudden, winning no longer mattered. “Great race,” replied Whitney, and she held out her hand.