Attack

In. Out. In. Out. One more breath. Again.

My head bursts from the water and I draw another long shaky breath before diving down again. Butterfly is probably my least favorite stroke but I have to make this a good 100 if I want any hope of doing well in the 400 on Friday.

Can’t breathe.

One more lap, that’s easy, right? My head feels heavy and I can’t seem to pick it up over the water anymore. My arms are burning – that’s not unusual – and my legs drag like lead.

12 ½ yards. Halfway back. Can’t die.

Still can’t breathe!

My hands pound into the wall and I gasp an unsatisfying breath that’s followed by a long stream of coughs that make it even more impossible to breathe the longer it happens. The next heat dives in and I pull myself out of the water on hands and knees and people gather around me to ask if I’m okay. Of course I am, this isn’t anything new.

100 free. I have to swim the 100 free.

“Move”. They won’t get away. I have to swim (I have to breathe).

Why won’t the doctor help? I’ve been three times and I still can’t breathe. Aren’t they supposed to fix it by now? Asthma they say. Well. I can’t breathe. Thanks.