Sports have always been a big part of my life. My mom is a former National team gymnast, who to this day is totally in love with her sport and coaches on her free time. My dad was a college football all-star back at home; his alma mater usually invites him to give speeches about sportsmanship and team bonding. I could go on forever telling the story about how my grandfather became a legend in Mexican cycling and how he got into the hall of fame, but that is not the point. Since I was a toddler, my parents taught me that being an athlete would lead to responsibility and a certain amount of balance in your life. As the eldest, and the only girl, I learned to look after my brothers and set a good example for them; so, it was destined that I would end up doing some kind of athletic activity.
I was born in Mexico but my great grandparents come from Spain and Italy, somehow with all my amazing gene pool I did not inherit the sculptured body of a fashion forward Italian goddess or the agility and long limbs of a Spanish diva, instead I’m short, dark skinned and have always had a strong will. When I first started swimming, it was just for the summer; in my hometown, temperature rises up to 118°F, back then, I was already a ballet dancer but my mom wanted me to have another activity on the afternoons. From day one I fell in love with it, it was the most amazing experience I have ever had in my short life, I was five when my heart knew that was it, nothing would ever make me as happy as being in the water. At first, I struggled a lot because there was always someone faster, stronger and taller than me; I could not understand why I wouldn’t get first place and why the other girls from my team, that didn’t even like swimming, did best, I remember I used to cry every time after a meet for that reason. Every Sunday when I went to visit my grandpa he would make me cry again, he would never accept a second place, and although my mom was supportive, even if I barely ever ended up in the podium, I always felt I was letting her down.
In Mexico, when you turn 11 and you’re a swimmer, you should already know what you want to do with your career because nationals and international competitions begin; also, because you are in 6th grade by that age, and you are already leaving behind your childhood years. It was 2001, I turned twelve that year and I was already going to my first National Olympics, that spring I qualified for finals in my best event and I finished 7th, which was good for my first appearance. My performance caught another coach’s eye and she contacted me to offer a once in a lifetime opportunity. The choice was simple, I had the chance to swim along a girl that was National record holder, Center America & Caribbean champion and an Olympic prospect for Athens, the only thing I had to do was swim with her; so, I did, and the sacrifice of leaving my old team soon paid off. By 2002 I was already ranked 1st amongst my age group, had a couple of gold medals in my pocket, and my whole family was proud of me. When 2003 came, the Center America & Caribbean Championships came with it, and so did my opportunity to prove everyone that I was not staying in my teammate’s shadow.
The complete national team left their hometowns that summer to start a training camp one month before the meet, we used to call those weeks hell weeks, the only thing we did was swim, eat and sleep. Weeks flew by and the time of the meet finally came, the championships were in Mexico City, which meant our team was in the spotlight, every one of us was prepared to get either second or first place in our events, and we all knew that. One day before the inauguration ceremony, the President had a videoconference with the whole team, he said how we were the future of our sport, how he was proud of the whole team for getting so far, and how we’ve already gotten a place in history just by being the biggest national team ever to compete in that meet. I remember those words as if it had just happened yesterday.
My big day came along with the butterflies, the sweaty hands and the sudden silence in my mind. That afternoon my coach talked to us, my teammate and I were ranked in first and second place, so far, everybody has gotten their medals, and our team was hoping we’d get this event too. There we were, outside the pool we were like sisters but once we got to our competition mode, we were each other’s enemy. On your marks, get set, go. It was the most difficult event in my life, in my head, I knew I wanted to win that gold and to prove myself that I had trained much harder than her; yet, I was only a water baby beside her, she was the one with the experience, with the fierceness, with the patience. Sometimes when I sit and watch myself in that night’s home video I cry, I remember the numbness, how tired I was, how I left my heart in that pool and never really got it back, how for the last time I gave my body and soul and passed my limit. Once I touched the wall, everything went black. The first memory I have is waking up in the Red Cross emergency station; even amongst the noise and chaos in the room, I woke up and saw things clearly for the first time. My mom was crying while holding my hand, and my coach was standing on the edge of my bed, when I opened my eyes she sweetly smiled and said “Welcome back little monster, we missed you.” Her words hit me like a train; in my heart, I knew what had happened, no medal for me this time.
I was sure that although those eight one thousands of a second had cost me the medal I had a team behind me, a great coach to support me, my mother by my side, the best summer of my life and an amazing story to write about. That’s what makes me who I am, with all the fears and flaunts, a water baby even to this day.
I was born in Mexico but my great grandparents come from Spain and Italy, somehow with all my amazing gene pool I did not inherit the sculptured body of a fashion forward Italian goddess or the agility and long limbs of a Spanish diva, instead I’m short, dark skinned and have always had a strong will. When I first started swimming, it was just for the summer; in my hometown, temperature rises up to 118°F, back then, I was already a ballet dancer but my mom wanted me to have another activity on the afternoons. From day one I fell in love with it, it was the most amazing experience I have ever had in my short life, I was five when my heart knew that was it, nothing would ever make me as happy as being in the water. At first, I struggled a lot because there was always someone faster, stronger and taller than me; I could not understand why I wouldn’t get first place and why the other girls from my team, that didn’t even like swimming, did best, I remember I used to cry every time after a meet for that reason. Every Sunday when I went to visit my grandpa he would make me cry again, he would never accept a second place, and although my mom was supportive, even if I barely ever ended up in the podium, I always felt I was letting her down.
In Mexico, when you turn 11 and you’re a swimmer, you should already know what you want to do with your career because nationals and international competitions begin; also, because you are in 6th grade by that age, and you are already leaving behind your childhood years. It was 2001, I turned twelve that year and I was already going to my first National Olympics, that spring I qualified for finals in my best event and I finished 7th, which was good for my first appearance. My performance caught another coach’s eye and she contacted me to offer a once in a lifetime opportunity. The choice was simple, I had the chance to swim along a girl that was National record holder, Center America & Caribbean champion and an Olympic prospect for Athens, the only thing I had to do was swim with her; so, I did, and the sacrifice of leaving my old team soon paid off. By 2002 I was already ranked 1st amongst my age group, had a couple of gold medals in my pocket, and my whole family was proud of me. When 2003 came, the Center America & Caribbean Championships came with it, and so did my opportunity to prove everyone that I was not staying in my teammate’s shadow.
The complete national team left their hometowns that summer to start a training camp one month before the meet, we used to call those weeks hell weeks, the only thing we did was swim, eat and sleep. Weeks flew by and the time of the meet finally came, the championships were in Mexico City, which meant our team was in the spotlight, every one of us was prepared to get either second or first place in our events, and we all knew that. One day before the inauguration ceremony, the President had a videoconference with the whole team, he said how we were the future of our sport, how he was proud of the whole team for getting so far, and how we’ve already gotten a place in history just by being the biggest national team ever to compete in that meet. I remember those words as if it had just happened yesterday.
My big day came along with the butterflies, the sweaty hands and the sudden silence in my mind. That afternoon my coach talked to us, my teammate and I were ranked in first and second place, so far, everybody has gotten their medals, and our team was hoping we’d get this event too. There we were, outside the pool we were like sisters but once we got to our competition mode, we were each other’s enemy. On your marks, get set, go. It was the most difficult event in my life, in my head, I knew I wanted to win that gold and to prove myself that I had trained much harder than her; yet, I was only a water baby beside her, she was the one with the experience, with the fierceness, with the patience. Sometimes when I sit and watch myself in that night’s home video I cry, I remember the numbness, how tired I was, how I left my heart in that pool and never really got it back, how for the last time I gave my body and soul and passed my limit. Once I touched the wall, everything went black. The first memory I have is waking up in the Red Cross emergency station; even amongst the noise and chaos in the room, I woke up and saw things clearly for the first time. My mom was crying while holding my hand, and my coach was standing on the edge of my bed, when I opened my eyes she sweetly smiled and said “Welcome back little monster, we missed you.” Her words hit me like a train; in my heart, I knew what had happened, no medal for me this time.
I was sure that although those eight one thousands of a second had cost me the medal I had a team behind me, a great coach to support me, my mother by my side, the best summer of my life and an amazing story to write about. That’s what makes me who I am, with all the fears and flaunts, a water baby even to this day.
v.