A Distance That Doesn't Show

My legs launch of the block,
At the sound of the buzzer.
I glide smoothly into the water,
Forming delicate splashes,
And tiny waves.
My feet kick,
Pushing and pulling the water.
My arms haul me forward,
Moving the water behind me.
I flip,
Launching myself off the wall.
I am underwater.
Calm, and cool,
My muscles relax.
But then,
I start to swim again.
My muscles tighten quickly,
Like the water just dropped a dozen degrees.                                                                                                                                             
My fingertips graze the wall.
I have finished.
The water has transported me back to where I have started.
But I have still gone far,
Even if I’m right back where I began.