It was looking like another boring day at the pool. Most days are, for lifeguards. At least that’s what people think. Whenever I tell someone I am a lifeguard, they give me a hard time for choosing the “easiest job ever.” And I guess they have a point; what I do isn’t hard, but on this day I was reminded that it’s very important.

There were about a hundred people, around half in the big pool and half in the shallow pool. I was stationed next to the diving boards, where the water is 12.5 feet deep. This is most lifeguards’ least favorite stand because it’s where most saves happen, but it is my favorite. I had never seen anyone come close to drowning, and I loved watching people doing tricks off the boards.

I watched a man spring off the high board, attempt a dive, and come very close to a belly flop. Then I realized that nobody had gone off the low dive in a while. I looked down and saw a girl, about 13, standing on the edge of the board. She looked shyly at me, then, when we made eye contact, down at the water. Her sparkly one-piece glinted in the sun as she turned and looked back toward the pool deck. I wondered if she wanted my permission to jump, but a kid in a green swimsuit was yelling for her to go. She turned to the water, this time holding her nose. I knew she was bracing to jump.

Suddenly, I had a feeling of foreboding. I put my whistle in my mouth, preparing to get her attention and ask if she could swim, but before I could, she stepped off the diving board.

I bit down hard on my whistle.

Splash!

I held my breath. It felt like she was underwater for a full three minutes, but looking back it was only a second or two. She came back up, and I exhaled. But something was wrong. The girl could not stay afloat. She was flailing her arms as if she was fighting off a swarm of bees. The fact that this girl could lose her life jump started me into action.

Tweeeeet!

I leapt into the water, taking care not to land on a mother in an inflatable donut. Fifteen feet lay between me and the girl writhing in the deep water. I swam faster than I ever had. When I reached her, I put my tube behind her like I had practiced in lifeguard classes. I pulled her by her shoulders onto the tube. She was crying as I brought her to the edge of the pool. A man helped her onto the deck, and then the other lifeguards arrived. They congratulated me, then took the girl to the office to get her information.

My legs felt like jelly. I know that’s a cliché, but they actually were not working. It felt like I had just sprinted a mile. As I struggled to get back on my stand, a man came up. It was the same man who had helped get the girl out of the water. He handed me my sunglasses and whistle, which had fallen off.

“That was impressive, man. Great job,” he said.

I thanked him and turned my attention back to the swimmers.

Maybe it seems that being a lifeguard is the simplest job ever, but people’s lives are in your hands. Sometimes even lifeguards forget this, but after that day I will never forget.