200 Butterfly Strategy advice?

The 200 Fly is like a loaded weapon... respect it and treat it with care, or you are liable to get hurt. I came out of college as a sprint butterflyer, and thought I would remain that way forever. As I got older, I found that a lot of other people in my age group had the same idea, so I went looking for a replacement event to keep me competitive in Nationals. The 200 Fly was a natural, since I already knew the stroke (a definite plus). All I had to do was figure out how to swim it without ending the last length with a piano on my back. In the 1970's Steve Tallman was an aquaintance of mine, and I had the opportunity to watch him swim the 200 fly at Cleveland state during the NCAA championships in 1975. At the 150 in the championship heat, he was 2 full body lengths behind the entire heat, and ended up placing 3rd overall (some leads just can't be overcome). Remembering that, I decided to try the "coming on late" tactic, and figured that at worst, I don't go any faster, and I don't really get hurt swimming the event. The first time I had an opportunity to try out my "new" tactic was, of course, at Long Course Nationals. There were only 8 people in my age group swimming the event, so if I didn't do anything crazy, I would still score points. The first 50, I consciously tried to go slow. I reeled in the impulse and urge to let the stroke flow and stretch out, as I always did in the 50 and 100. But I resisted the temptation, and took measured, highly restrained strokes, and kept with an easy breathing pattern, two strokes, breathe. That didn't feel too bad, so I tried it again on the next 50, letting the stroke develop a little bit, still keeping the breathing pattern. Meanwhile, the rest of the heat was at least two lengths ahead of me, and I was a little concerned about the possibility of being lapped. But only a little, I had a race to finish. On the third 50, I finally swam long and relaxed, just like one would feel on the first length, usually. And the rest of the heat was no longer pulling away from me, in fact, I was keeping apace easily, even thoough I was still behind everyone. The last turn, I decided to find out what was left in the gas tank, and let her rip. I swam by the guy next to me as if he were sculling backwards. I felt terrific, albeit tired, but definitely not out of gas, and still in control of my stroke (rather than praying the whole last lengh that I would still have feeling in my arms and legs after the race). The last stroke before I hit the wall, I could hardly get my arms out of the water, and I knew that I had given it everything, so was satisfied. I ended up getting third in that race (some leads just can't be overcome), and was converted to swimming the 200 fly from then on. The routine is simple, hold back on the first 50, slowly build the rest. You can't go wrong, and if you do it well, you look like a hero. Good luck. I yam what I yam

Jim, Thanks again for beginning this discussion. I've considered myself a butterflyer for the many years I've dabbled in Masters swimming but never trained very seriously. I've felt for some time that I "should" be training more fly, but it was always just so much harder, and I've been satisfied with just swimming free or IM. Since this thread began last week I've made the conscious decision to put more effort into butterfly. Although it doesn't sound like much to some of you diehards out there, this morning I did 4X100 fly on 2:00. I never would have attempted this in a workout if not for this renewed sense of purpose here. (The 13 year old kid in the next lane, who just set the national record for 11-12 200 M fly last year got a real kick out of my effort). Anyway, I may run into you at a meet sometime to talk to you in person; I'll be in 50-54 age group entered in any and all butterfly and IM events. Hope your 200 this weekend went well for you. I'm sure you'll let us know how it felt.

Jim: tell us how it went............... Bert:)

Phil and everyone else who offered such great advice: Interesting comment about the heat, Phil. I am still sweating. I drank 6 x 12 ounce bottles of water during the meet and my mouth is still dry. The meet's been over for 5 hours. Anyhow, the old Y regional record for our 45-49 age group was 2:27.59, so I was hoping to go a 2:27.58. I went out in about 1:04 for the first hundred, feeling pretty good--loose, well oxygenated, etc. I told myself--only one more 100--like doing a butterfly sprint at the end of a hard practice. I thought this would prove pretty doable. After 125, I could feel my stroke shortening a bit, but told myself to stay relaxed--I only had 75 left. After 150, I was definitely getting tired. I tried to keep as horizontal as possible, but ended up undulating higher than before just to get enough "freeboard" to suck in huge amounts of air. Still, I thought, only one more 50! Anyone can finish a 50 fly, right? The last two lengths were increasingly brutal. With 25 yards to go, my teammates told me afterwards, they commented to themselves, "He only needs to break 30 on the last length to get the new record." But they watched as Xeno's Paradox began to take over. The last 12 1/2 yards, then the last 6 1/4 yards, then the last 3 1/8 yards--anyone who has attempted this race knows what I am talking about. I feared I was going to keep halving the distance in perpetuity, never reaching the wall. It's somewhat debatable whether my final stroke was technically butterly--it was closer to a form of two-armed fingertip drill (only I was using my elbows instead of fingertips.) Anyhow, it's a good thing I wasn't racing the 201 yard butterfly, because I don' t think I could have made it. My final time: a palindromic 2:21.22, which beat our old record by about 6 1/3 seconds. I have to say I am extremely happy about this--and don't plan to swim the 200 fly again until next year when I turn 50, then every five years from that point on, like clockwork. Thanks very, very much for your advice, one and all. It really helped, even though--as my 13 year old son put it--my last few strokes weren't good enough to be called butterfly, they were more like lardfly.

It's 8:10 am, and we're about to make the 2.5 hour drive to Hollidaysburg. Armed with the advice from this forum, I will haul my creaky, mildly arthritic, and even more mildly hungover 49-year-old body onwards to my dubious 200 butterfly destiny! Thanks for all the advice, and I'll let you know how it went (assuming I can use my arms enough to type.) Jim

a 104 and a 117,eh? I would guess that a 106 and a 115 would have felt a lot better with the same final result. We learn as we burn.................. ;)

Wow Jim, I've swum at that pool where you are going! I tried to do sets of 100s, and keeled over from heat exhaustion! That pool is *too* warm! All of the advice is changed! (not really, best of luck. Or rather, I hope things went well)

Gail, Thanks for the cautionary note, though I wish you had mentioned the "float the first 100" advice BEFORE I swam my race. As far as the guy who dropped dead at the end of the 200 fly, that's tragic. He must have had some sort of occult heart condition, I would think. If this did, in fact, happen (as opposed to being a Masters equivalent of an urban legend), I'd definitely like to know more details. But I count myself blessed not only to have finished but to have survived....

Jim, Definitely not an urban legend, the swimmer was Herbert Margolis, a 37 year old attorney, who died of a heart attack after swimming the 200 yd. butterfly in the meet. The meet was the short course National Master Championships held in Ft. Pierce, FL in 1986.

It turns out my inlaws live about 2 miles from the Hollidaysburg pool, so I am familiar with it. Jim, I wish I could have described my experiences swimming that event as well as you did; evidently some experiences are just universal. Maybe there really is a hell. I swam the 200 fly last year at Santa Clara for the first time in my Masters career. As I approached the finish and passed under the flags, I doubted I could take as stroke and still recover over the water. If I couldn't, it would be a sure DQ, so I kicked the rest of the way in. I remember thinking that this must be the way a parapalegic felt - the arms would not do what the brain told them to do. As I was deciding if I could possibly climb out of the pool, one of the timers looked down at me sadly, "You could have had a better time if you had taken another couple of strokes" he said. It was also the only event I managed to place, and one of the happiest and proudest moments of my year. I'll do it again :)