Right when I jump into the pool, my body is suspended in the water for the slightest moment in time. My feet panic, trying to touch the floor of the pool before the laws of science force my body up to the surface again. In that split second, I can’t feel a thing, nor do I think about anything – I simply exist. Then, hundreds of goose bumps appear on the surface of my skin, trying desperately to capture the heat from leaving my body. My mind registers the roar of the waves I had just created. I open my mouth to speak, but only register the overwhelming taste of chlorine. Finally, my legs begin to kick as my arms pull the water, propelling my body to the surface. Only now does my mind realize the cry my lungs have been yelling. I kick faster. I pull harder. When my head finally breaks the surface, the sunshine nearly blinds me as I take that first, crisp breath of fresh air. But before I know it, I’m back underneath the coolness of the water.