11/19/2025
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Compliments to our colleague Coach Gallagher!
I think people assume swimmers are these super intense, locked-in athletes 24/7. And some are. But me? I go home after practice and take out a coloring book.
I only started a couple months ago. It kept popping up on my For You Page — people coloring little cartoon dogs or flowers — and it just looked peaceful. Like something you do when life is loud and you want something quiet. So I bought markers, pencils, the whole kit. And on the weekends, when the house settles down after dinner and I have some downtime, I'll go sit in the living room and color for an hour. It sounds silly, but it actually makes me feel sane.
Our house is eight senior swimmers all smushed together in a three-story place on Linden Ave. Last year the living room was so gross we basically pretended it didn't exist. But we renovated the floors, bought a real TV and suddenly it became the coziest room in the world. Every night, someone's cooking, someone's doing homework; we're all wrapped in blankets watching Friends or Stranger Things. It's chaotic but warm, like living inside a sleepover.
And I love it because it reminds me that swimming is just part of my life. An important part, but not all of it. In high school, it swallowed everything. I was burnt out — doubles every day, no days off, long practices with older kids. At times I didn't love the sport; I just loved the people. There were moments where I really thought I’d quit.
College changed that. The team atmosphere here is different. Gentler. More trusting. Coach Gallagher doesn't scream, he talks about chocolate cake on recruiting calls. The girls cheer for each other. No one feels like they're fighting over a roster spot. It's the first time swimming hasn't felt like a job.
And now, when I come home from practice — tired, chlorine hair, whatever — I get this little window of calm. I grab my coloring book, pick a random page and just fill in shapes. Dogs with scarves. Flowers. Little cartoon scenes. And the house around me hums with everyone laughing or yelling at the TV or arguing about dishes.
It's not glamorous at all. But I know when I'm older, this is what I'll remember — not the times or the splits or the meets. Just eight girls sitting around in sweats, sharing snacks, coloring, watching shows and trying to make this big strange world feel cozy for one more night.
Read The Big Red Bio "The Sport She Almost Walked Away From" on CornellBigRed.com.
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