Picture It...

Sunday, February 22. Grand Rapids. The 8 & Under State Swim Meet. Of course, I had to go. And I actually remembered my camera. I arrived at the pool just as a close race was finishing in the girls' relay, and was there just in time for Justin's first swim - the breaststroke leg of the 100-yard individual medley relay. I don't think I've seen him swim that fast before, and their team took 2nd! I got teary-eyed again, and both feel like an ass and a sense that nobody else feels like their heart is running around out of their body on that pool deck. Maybe that's the secret I should send in to postsecret... But alas, I thought he had a great meet overall - 2nd in two relays, 4th in the 100 IM, and 3rd in the 50 freestyle and 2nd in the 25 free.

But the interesting part was his reaction to his 50 free swim. He's been battling with his time, as he swam his fastest early in the season and has had a really hard time repeating that performance. When he doesn't get too upset, my brother does, as he seems to feel Justin's not trying hard enough and is capable of swimming faster. This time, it was Justin who was upset with his time (and maybe the fact that he placed third and not first, though he seemed okay with not placing first in his other events). So, maybe this time he did work hard and try his best and it wasn't good enough in one way or another. It's just amazing to me sometimes. I look into his sweet face and see myself. I don't remember getting overly frustrated with sports. I knew I would never be a great swimmer, so I settled for being okay. I still worked hard, but it didn't damage me that I wouldn't swim in college or ever make it to state meets. My frustration was more with my education. I was reminded today of being at home alone after school during my senior year in high school, sitting on the couch, working on Calculus homework, and hurling the book across the room in utter frustration at not being able to figure out a problem (probably matrices, damn that Rene Descartes). And it was all because of some overwhelming feeling that it should come easier to me than it did. Mind you, I got As in calc (and everything else, mostly), so how could that not be good enough? The trigger for that memory was Justin ripping off his cap and goggles after his race, and throwing a few good punches at his swim bag as he was digging for his towel, obviously upset. He pulled it together for his last race, and by the end of the meet, when I got my hugs and kisses, he was in a pretty good mood, which was nice to see.

Part of me thinks this is all a good character builder. As if somehow that the level of frustration can be good, and I know that Justin needs to learn how to deal with things, have confidence in himself, and be proud of himself. Oh, and it is so fascinating to watch my brother trying to pull the best out of his son, when my parents struggled with that very thing with him. I just hope these life lessons aren't as elusive for my nephew as they were for me.













And the pictures - Justin getting his medal for the 50 free, swimming in the 100 free relay, getting ready to swim the 50 free, and talking to my brother (who was volunteering as a timer) before the 100 free relay.