From a very young age I have wanted to lifeguard. I remember being at swim practice and looking up at the chair and wondering what it would be like to be in charge of the whole pool. Well, here I am 10 years later up in that chair. When I first began working I was worried that I would be the "mean lifeguard", the one that strikes fear into the hearts of all children who dare run within their line of vision. It only took me about one day of work to figure out that the "mean lifeguards" are the safest. If I had a dollar for every time the word "walk" escaped my lips I would probably have enough money to put myself through college with ease. While the job itself is made out to be like "Baywatch" or teenagers getting paid to tan, it is anything but glamorous. Yes, you have a few hours of sitting in the sun; however, you also have a few of your days consisting of cleaning bloody knees, dealing with parents who insist their child can swim, and patrons who refuse to listen to you simply because of your age. I have been fortunate enough to work with people who handle these situations with grace and professionalism. Believe me, it is a sight to see when a 16 year old girl puts a middle aged man in his place without ever raising her voice or getting angry.

While most of what we do involves keeping the pool running smoothly every so often everything gets put to a halt by one kid. Once in a while, there will be a swimmer that goes out a little bit too far, and without realizing he has done and begins to panic. There is no time for thinking at this point, everything is a reaction. In about three seconds you're in the pool, no matter what you're wearing going to get that kid. It's terrifying, but that's your job, and you wouldn't change it for the world. So to all current and past lifeguards: cherish the moments you have at the pool. Yes, some days aren't fun; but, all and all, this is what makes your summer the best. As I write this, we are in the process of closing the pool for the winter, something I know which is bittersweet for all of us, lifeguard and patron alike. In the end, I know that next year, I'll be back out again, back in the chair, with my whistle ready for the first kid that dares to run.