500 Words About Samantha Livieri

"Honestly, Samantha, just go have some fun today," Coach Bill told me after I finished last at a meet my junior year.  

Again. 

I was a swimmer starting at the age of eight. And beginning at the age of eight, I was a bad swimmer. I constantly came in last during races and focused more on talking to my friends during practices than actually practicing. 

I truly loved it, though. 

I used to spend up to four, hours soaking wet in a freezing pool with my best friends. Sometimes I actually looked forward to the piercing shock of the water since it allowed me to maintain some of the deepest and most substantial relationships I think I will ever have. 

Every ache from our muscles and tear shed at our losses brought us closer together. And while the wins were highlighted, the losses we each took shaped us as people and strengthened our relationship with each other. 

I took more losses than the majority of my teammates. 

For almost two years, I saw no improvement in my races. Yet, quitting never crossed my mind. While the immediate goal of a sport is to improve, I found that it was not the competition of the sport, but rather the bond I had created with my teammates. 

I feel extremely lucky to have had my teammates during a time of struggle within my own personal achievement. They never gave me the time to feel frustrated with my lack of progress because by the time I was out of the water, we were laughing about something else, like two younger swimmers diving into the same lane. Laughing never gave us much time to dwell. 

Swimming also taught me balance in my relationships. Swimming is one of the few sports where you may directly compete with your teammates who complete the same training as you. There were many times when my teammates and I would compete, and one would be better than the other. Quickly, I learned how to put my own feelings aside to celebrate or mourn with my friends, and they did the same for me. 

Through the ten years I spent underwater, I learned the importance of dedication to my commitments, which can often put you in difficult situations, where you have to choose how to spend your time. I learned from an early age that valuing your commitment and seeing things through reap a greater reward than the satisfaction that instant gratification yields. 

I struggled with my own self-confidence through the lack of progress but looking back, I think I learned greater lessons in perseverance and friendship than if I constantly excelled. I'm grateful for the support system I have that allows me to keep trying, even when it is looking bleak. 

In the end, it is not the loss itself that impacts you, but your response. And the response of the people closest to you. It is important to have friends that help you get back on your feet instead of pushing you back down. 

It is even more important to learn how to be that friend.