from my journal, November 11, 1992
Today, struggle and striving and the aching meaning of death. The Linfield swim team don’t have to practice. They volunteer. They volunteer to train till they are nauseated. Every day they swim until they are gasping for air. Their eyes are hollow with fatigue. Every day. They have a choice. They can train well and compete well and win. Or they can let the training slide and not go anywhere. Some 70 percent of them qualify for nationals, whatever that is. These are 18- to 22-year-olds. If they can train, I can. If they can gasp for air every day, I can grasp for synonyms. They keep it up, lap after lap. I need to do it page after page.