Record Swim Meet
RECORD SWIM MEET – January 18, 2025 – Indianapolis, Indiana, USA
The aquatic center’s facility manager flipped on the overhead lights for the main competition pool. The water’s surface flashed into view, blue and glassy. Seeing it seemed to accentuate the sharp small of chlorine. 5:00 am. Outside, it was cold and dark, but inside the water was held at a perfect 79° Fahrenheit. The temperature and deep, wide lanes were perfect for fast times.
When the rest of his team arrived, the manager emphasized the importance of the upcoming meet. He ordered rechecks of the water’s pH level and the filtration systems. “Everything needs to be spotless. All eyes are on us today,” he said earnestly. Then he personally inspected the floating lane lines to make sure they were perfectly straight and tight.
As the manager checked the installation of electronic timing pads for each lane, Marla Coombs, the lead meet official arrived. She wore a blazer with an insignia indicating she was in charge. She liked to arrive earlier than the rest of her staff and walk the pool deck while it was still quiet. It brought back memories of all the meets and pools around the world where she swam, including at the 1992 Olympics.
When the full collection of meet officials arrived, Marla shuffled them into a briefing room next to the pool for an inspirational pep talk. “Let’s run a clean meet today. Let’s show the world that Indianapolis knows swimming. When we do our jobs correctly, all the attention is on the athletes and not on us. They deserve it. They’ve trained for years to get here. Hopefully we see some records broken today.”
Officials left the meeting energized and took their positions at the timing stations, announcing booth, and at the controls for the large screen showing race results. Marla Coombs nodded her approval that everything was precisely ready.
Outside the aquatic center, two older teenagers huddled together in the cold, waiting for the doors to open. They were part of an anxious crowd of hopeful spectators and were sent to save seats for the family of swimmer, Deena Farris. The meet was open to the public, which meant there were never enough good viewing spots to go around.
When the doors did finally open, Deena’s teenage cousins fought their way through a surge of bodies. They raced down a long hallway and up a flight of stairs to reach the seating area above the pool deck. They found an unclaimed block of 20 seats and frantically threw coats, scarfs, and hats onto chairs to show they were reserved.
The teenagers heard countless questions about needing all those seats. Plenty of people looking for spots muttered something like, “You can’t save that many,” but the teenagers were not intimidated and did not give up ground. Their tenacity and cold-weather tolerance made them especially qualified for the seat-saving job. They sent texts with pictures to other family members to show where in the stands they were located.
The next of Deena’s relatives to arrive were a set of grandparents. They waved excitedly to her cousins and took seats in the lowest row of the reserved block.
“Nice seats,” Deena’s grandfather said.
“I’m glad you’re here to help us save them,” one of the cousins replied, looking around at the growing crowd surrounding them. “Some of these people look ready to throw our coats and stuff into the pool.”
Down below, no swimmers were in the water yet. Meet officials scurried around checking and rechecking participant lists. Morning sunlight was now visible in the windows at the top of the building’s walls. Two sets of Deena’s aunts and uncles arrived along with more cousins. They were followed by a second set of grandparents. Everyone pulled off their outer layer of winter clothing to avoid suffocating in the warm, moist air surrounding the pool.
“You must have woken up pretty early,” Deena’s aunt said to her grandparents. “How long did it take to get here?”
“We were on the road for two hours. Lots of slick patches,” Deena’s grandmother replied. “But we would have driven four hours if we had to. From what her dad says, this is Deena’s most important race of the year.”
Everyone in the family’s block of seats picked up their phone as a group text arrived from Deena’s father. He was letting them know Deena had arrived and was getting situated downstairs. Ten minutes later, he appeared in the stands and happily greeted all family members before further explaining the situation.
“Deena’s down on the pool deck with her mom and coach. There’s not a lot of room and I always make her nervous before she swims, so I think I’ll stay up here.”
As he spoke, a mass of swimmers suddenly walked to the edge of the pool and dropped into the water.
“Warmup time,” Deena’s dad said, gesturing toward the frantic activity. Lanes filled with multiple swimmers churning and slapping at the water as they plowed back and forth.
“I don’t see Deena! Where is she?” one of her aunts shouted.
“Probably in the pool we can’t see,” Deena’s dad replied. “They use that one for warmups too.”
Another aunt and uncle arrived and asked if they missed anything. The others assured them that the meet had not really started. All 20 prime viewing seats reserved by the early-arriving cousins were now occupied. Spectators without such good family connections were forced to stand in aisles and hallways because the stands were packed to capacity.
After thirty minutes of warmup swimming, the meet announcer’s voice blared from the building’s sound system, welcoming participants and spectators and introducing the first event. The names of the first heat’s participants were read as they appeared on the electronic billboard. Deena’s family recognized none of the names. After the start signal, eight swimmers dove into the water and swam the 100 Meter Freestyle. The race was close and nearly everyone in the stands paid attention and clapped for the winner.
The next heat began a minute later. New races continued relentlessly as swimmers surged back and forth across the pool with their names and times announced over the loudspeakers. Cheers erupted for new pool records, which were highlighted on the big screen. But with each race, the crowd’s enthusiasm and interest level dropped.
Deena’s dad got a text message from her mom. He announced to the rest of the family, “It looks like Deena’s in Event 41.”
“Oh, I’m so nervous for her,” one of her grandmothers said. “All those early morning practices leading up to this moment. But I still don’t see her.”
“We’ve got a while to wait,” her dad replied. “Lots of heats before we get to Event 41.”
Deena’s teenage cousins scrolled through their phones while barely glancing at the swim action. The adults chatted about other relatives and what they would be doing for upcoming holidays. Two of Deena’s uncles found a snack bar downstairs and returned with armfuls of soft pretzels and dipping cheese. Deena’s dad continued to thank everyone for coming and raved about how great their seats were. He updated the family with estimates on when Event 41 would start.
“Another thirty minutes and we should be there.”
“Okay, fifteen more minutes. We’re getting close.”
“Five more minutes. Get your phones ready.”
As the final heat for Event 40 finished, Deena’s dad checked the settings on his phone camera, ready to film the upcoming race. One of her grandmother’s said, “Soon we’ll be watching her like this at the Olympics.”
“Alright, here we go. Get ready to scream your brains out,” Deena’s dad shouted.
Finally, two hours after the meet began and more than four hours after the block of seats were saved, the announcer called the first heat for Event 41.
“This is the 25 Meter Backstroke for seven and eight-year-old girls.”
Eight little girls in swimsuits lined up poolside.
“I see her!” Deena’s aunt yelled. “Lane 3. In the yellow cap!”
The block of family members yelled as they heard Deena’s name announced. At the start signal, an intense-looking Deena semi-bellyflopped into the water and churned across the pool, to the deafening cheers of her relatives. She touched the wall in 26.5 seconds, placing second in the heat.
“She almost won! That’s her personal record!” Deena’s dad cried as he took a picture of the billboard showing the race results.
“Well, that was awesome,” one of Deena’s grandpas concluded. “Best race I’ve seen in a long time.”
“So that’s it,” Deena’s dad said in a relieved voice. “We can go see her now. And everyone’s invited over for lunch to celebrate.”
All twenty family members stood and abandoned their prime seats as they exited the stands. They ignored the next three heats of the event in which six other girls finished with better times than Deena.
Most of Deena’s entourage made the 35-minute drive to her house for the celebration lunch. Her parents produced a cake decorated with a gold medal made from frosting. Her dad recounted how close she came to winning.
“Second place is good enough for me,” one of her grandmothers said. “I’m proud to be related to the second fastest swimmer in Indiana.”
Deena’s dad knew his daughter was far from any statewide ranking but he did not bother correcting the statement. Instead, he said, “Since everyone had so much fun, how about coming to the next meet in two weeks?”
The raucous enthusiasm displayed when Deena swam was gone on the faces of grandparents, aunts, and uncles. They all calculated the time spent driving and waiting compared to time the little girl spent in the water. An aunt mentioned needing to work during the next two weekends. An uncle remembered a model train exhibit he promised to attend.
“We’ll see if we can make it,” one of Deena’s grandmothers said to her father. “But in case we can’t, you can always record the meet and send us the video, right?”
Deena’s dad assured them race footage would always be available.
“I have a feeling Deena’s got a long swimming career ahead of her,” one of her uncles concluded. “Even if I miss the next few races, I promise to be there if she makes the Olympics.”
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