Victoria Sanchez

Crashout, burnout, senioritis? Whatever it is called, I definitely have it. The end of the semester is here, and that semester-long research project is knocking at my door. Final projects compete for my attention daily. And it feels like I am tied to a chair with my responsibilities circling around me, screaming, “Which one will you choose today?” Sleep is a choice now, one that means either three hours or fifteen hours.

Once a month, it’s the same deal. My playlist becomes boring, and new releases blur together. The excitement for music is lost. So I do what I always do: I go back in time. Back to the 2000s R&B my brothers used to play. Back to the songs I did not understand at such a young age, but knew I loved them. And every single time, without fail, they hit exactly the same. R&B doesn’t age. The storytelling and rhythm keep me listening nearly 20 years later.

After a four-year break, I have returned to a sport I happily left behind me. Swimming was the sport that defined my life for thirteen years. Practices twice a day, travel to meets on the weekends, and workouts carefully curated to fit the events I compete in. It defined my life in almost every way. From the people I socialized with to what I ate. Returning to the pool was not something I planned. It came from the need for change. My routines had become stale.