Thought it would be neat to share our stories about the best athlete we ever swam with. Note that it is not necessarily the fastest or best swimmer we have trained with.
The best athlete I ever trained with was a young man that showed up for my masters swim group. He was training to pass the test to be a Navy SEAL officer. Having graduated from a non-Naval Academy college, the standards for making the officers cut were tough. He was, however, a good prospect.
With no prior competitive swim background, he was able to get his 500 yard sidestroke down to a 7:30 in a matter of a few months. However, this was not the main thing that impressed me. It was the times/scores on his practice tests which I helped time him on.
Here is what he could do:
500 yard sidestroke swim: 7:30
8 minute rest
2 minutes of push-ups: # done was 112
2 minute rest
2 minutes of sit-ups: # done was 110
2 minute rest
max number of pull-ups (palms facing away from body): 25
8 minute rest
1.5 mile run done in combat boots and long pants: 9:05.
The guy was a machine. Speed, strength, endurance, and power. Doing 25 pull-ups shortly after a hard swim, pushups, and sit-ups was impressive! The young man decided not to pursue a career in the Navy but chose to stay near family. Last I heard he had started his own business and was doing well.
Dara.
And I beat her, too, when she wasn't looking, on the 11th x 100 LCM warm up out of a set of 12.
She'd been so far ahead of me on the first 10, I think she'd stopped worrying about me making my move. She probably figured if I was going to make a move at all, it would come on the last of the 12.,
Ah, that's where they always make their mistake!
Beware the penultimate rep. That's always where people like me make our move.
On the first length, she moved ahead with effortless grace, flipped at the wall, and passed me going the other way . A couple seconds later, I did my flip and bided my time, letting her get real comfortable-like with the separation between us.
I started picking it up with 20 meters to go, tried to time things so I'd be at an all-out sprint before she even knew I was racing.
Dara was breathing on the other side when I caught up with only 8 feet to go. She still could have beaten me easily, but she lifted her head to start talking to somebody in the adjacent lane, and was letting herself just glide in. Underwater, I watched in triumph as my fingertips out-touched her by a few inches.
She never knew I beat her, and probably still doesn't, and if she were to read this, I suspect she would believe I am making it all up. But I am not! Triumph was mine that day--and probably by a slightly larger margin than her Olympic loss, too.
I should probably mention she'd had knee surgery a couple days before, and the arthroscope holes were wrapped in tight cellophane to keep anything from leaking into the water.
Most people would not consider this much of a victory. But I do. To my developing life list of accomplishments--I was an extra zombie in George Romaro's classic Dawn of the Dead--I can now add a second item.
I beat Dara Torres in swimming. In a head-to-head race, where one of us actually knew it WAS a race, I came in first--not because I am a better swimmer or have more testosterone, though I would hope one of these things is true, but because of my superior race strategy.
Not many people can say they beat Dara Torres. I am one of them.
PS is it possible that the B70 corporation would finally consider sponsoring me? Or maybe Mr. Romaro could write a redux role for me in his next film about ghouls? In nearly 35 years since my last silver screen appearance, I have actually nearly become a zombie--and grow closer to this goal with each passing day.
Dara.
And I beat her, too, when she wasn't looking, on the 11th x 100 LCM warm up out of a set of 12.
She'd been so far ahead of me on the first 10, I think she'd stopped worrying about me making my move. She probably figured if I was going to make a move at all, it would come on the last of the 12.,
Ah, that's where they always make their mistake!
Beware the penultimate rep. That's always where people like me make our move.
On the first length, she moved ahead with effortless grace, flipped at the wall, and passed me going the other way . A couple seconds later, I did my flip and bided my time, letting her get real comfortable-like with the separation between us.
I started picking it up with 20 meters to go, tried to time things so I'd be at an all-out sprint before she even knew I was racing.
Dara was breathing on the other side when I caught up with only 8 feet to go. She still could have beaten me easily, but she lifted her head to start talking to somebody in the adjacent lane, and was letting herself just glide in. Underwater, I watched in triumph as my fingertips out-touched her by a few inches.
She never knew I beat her, and probably still doesn't, and if she were to read this, I suspect she would believe I am making it all up. But I am not! Triumph was mine that day--and probably by a slightly larger margin than her Olympic loss, too.
I should probably mention she'd had knee surgery a couple days before, and the arthroscope holes were wrapped in tight cellophane to keep anything from leaking into the water.
Most people would not consider this much of a victory. But I do. To my developing life list of accomplishments--I was an extra zombie in George Romaro's classic Dawn of the Dead--I can now add a second item.
I beat Dara Torres in swimming. In a head-to-head race, where one of us actually knew it WAS a race, I came in first--not because I am a better swimmer or have more testosterone, though I would hope one of these things is true, but because of my superior race strategy.
Not many people can say they beat Dara Torres. I am one of them.
PS is it possible that the B70 corporation would finally consider sponsoring me? Or maybe Mr. Romaro could write a redux role for me in his next film about ghouls? In nearly 35 years since my last silver screen appearance, I have actually nearly become a zombie--and grow closer to this goal with each passing day.
