And there I was, bawling my eyes out. In fact, there wasn’t a dry eye in the room. No one had punched me in the gut, although over the years it had felt like it on numerous occassions.

And no woman had just broken up with me.

I was crying tears of joy, tears of sadness and tears of confusion all at the same time.

A week ago, I took my last stroke of butterfly into my last wall and ended my competitive swimming career.

This career began with my love for water before I could walk.

This launched me into the competitve phase at 7. It really began to get fun when I started jumping into a cold pool at 5:15 a.m. four mornings a week at age 12.

It has been a career that has seen me, my parents, teammates, coaches and friends wade through the rivers of the lowests valleys and stand atop the highest mountains.

My career was filled with coaches telling me I was too short to swim and my mom begging me to take a morning off when I looked tired or was getting sick.

And for 15 years, none of that kept me away from the pool.

So after we finished the meet, each of the six seniors on the team got up to make some comments.

Filled with a room of people who had been through so much with me, I told them that I don’t remember a time that I could go straight home from school.

Every time a friend in junior high would ask me if I wanted to play football after school, the answer was always the same, “going to practice.” Every time there was a party on a Friday night my answer was always the same, “got to be in the water at 6 a.m. the next day.”

There were lots of times where I could have gone skiing, sailing, or just relaxed, but spent 14 hours a day for three straight days at a pool for a competition instead.

Saturday night I explained the sacrifices every athlete makes and said in a choked-up voice and trying to hold back tears that “I didn’t regret anything.” What an amazing accomplishment, being able to leave something with absolutely no regrets.

As I cried and tried to share some of my thoughts, I realized that I didn’t even know why I was crying. I know that I will swim again, but I could think of two things that I will miss more than anything.

The first is the ability to compete at such a high level that allowed me to challenge myself on a daily basis.

As Steve Prefontaine used to say, the point to racing and really the point to sport is to challenge the limit of the human heart. The other aspect I will miss will be being with my team.

The challenge and camaraderie are practically impossible to recreate in any other realm of life. After so many years of not knowing any differently, those will be the two things that were taken for granted most of the time, but will be truly missed in my next life.

Some people would say to me before my last race that it all comes down to this.

I couldn’t think of a more untrue statement. It didn’t matter that I didn’t win my last race, because I won the moment I decided to be a swimmer.

The sport took me on the most wonderful journey anyone could ask for.

So as I tried to speak, I looked out into the crowd to see my parents, teammates and coaches who have been through the journey and realized what a wonderful adventure it all has been.