In high school, I swam competitively. The day before a swim meet was "holy." Some would say, more holy than the meet itself. From the second I woke up to the moment my head hit the pillow, I was 'in the zone.' Even though I was present for class and for conversations, I wasn't, not really. I was at the meet. I was in the pool. I was pulling my strokes. There were nerves in that place, excitement, expectation. At practice that night, we wouldn't go as hard; we would go for a longer distance to boost the stamina of our lungs.