Timing is everything. I remind myself of that a hundred times a day, but today is different. Today is big. Today is Olympics big, and 10 meters big at that.

The aquatics stadium reeks of chlorine, and I can taste it more than I can smell it. I love that. I can’t get enough. I revel in it as I feel my slick warm-up pants slide off. The world is a vast tinting of red and blue as I slide my shirt over my head. My Muppets Animal Speedo clings snugly to my lower parts. Feels like victory.

As a hush falls over the crowd, I know it is my time. With quick, practiced steps I make my way to the ladder and begin my ascent. Ah, the heady rush of butterflies battling bumblebees begins in my stomach and consumes.

As I crest the platform, I hear, “Hey, what’s that guy doing on the platform? Someone call security!”

But it’s too late. I’m here. This is my day. I’m diving in the Olympics, baby. Arms spread wide I rake a running charge off the end of the highest diving platform and soar into infamy.