Equipment Rep
Trains with every piece of equipment available at all times.
The Luddite
Trains with nothing. Only uses a loin cloth and goggles in workout.
The Barnacle
Leaves right on your feet. Couldn't count to five or ten if his life depnded on it.
The Coach
Not an actual coach, but someone who is consumed with technique. Swimming is a precise set of moves that can be broken down, categorized, and scientifically analyzed.
The Jaded
Could care less about technique. Just wants to swim and leave the analysis to the eggheads.
The Swimaholic
Trains at least 10 swimming workouts a week. Anything less is viewed as not trying.
Fast Guy who Never Trains
Shows up once a month and breaks national records in practice.
Hardest Working Man in the Swim Business
Trains like a ferocious animal in workout, but has no speed when it comes to racing.
Lane Guy
Works out in a lane that is far too fast or slow for him.
The Crack Guy
Dude, pull your swimsuit up or get a bigger size.
The Newbie
Shows up to practice in board shorts and a scuba mask.
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As for myself, I would fall into the categories of Luddite and Jaded. Also, I wrote this from a male perspective, but the women are included as well. Any other stereotypes?
The Dude
This fellow, invariably male, 6'4", and sporting that natural, never had to try for even a day to maintain ripped 6 pack, shows up in a baggy pair of O'Neill or Quicksilver shorts with a half used bar of wax in the pocket and with a leather band with a shark tooth or a strand of puka shells around the neck. He announces he's just there for a month or so to get in shape for tow-in season at Mavericks or Teahupo'o, and proceeds to do just that. After two days he ends up in the second fastest lane, and promptly takes down all but the team's top three swimmers, despite professing to have no competitive background whatsoever. His turns are awful, his head position is worse, and he looks like he's drowning cats while swimming free, but he's at the wall before you on every repeat, already slinging surfer dude-speak while you feel like vomiting quietly into the gutter from your secret 100% effort to for once beat him to the wall.
The women love him for his bleached mop, tanned bod, thongs, neckwear, and dude-speak. The guys just hate him. About 6 months after he mercifully disappeared back to whence he came, you catch a glimpse of a guy who looks eerily familiar being towed into a giant wave at Teahupo'o while flipping channels past the surf channel. You keep flipping to the video poker tournament and put the whole debacle out of your mind.
The Dude
This fellow, invariably male, 6'4", and sporting that natural, never had to try for even a day to maintain ripped 6 pack, shows up in a baggy pair of O'Neill or Quicksilver shorts with a half used bar of wax in the pocket and with a leather band with a shark tooth or a strand of puka shells around the neck. He announces he's just there for a month or so to get in shape for tow-in season at Mavericks or Teahupo'o, and proceeds to do just that. After two days he ends up in the second fastest lane, and promptly takes down all but the team's top three swimmers, despite professing to have no competitive background whatsoever. His turns are awful, his head position is worse, and he looks like he's drowning cats while swimming free, but he's at the wall before you on every repeat, already slinging surfer dude-speak while you feel like vomiting quietly into the gutter from your secret 100% effort to for once beat him to the wall.
The women love him for his bleached mop, tanned bod, thongs, neckwear, and dude-speak. The guys just hate him. About 6 months after he mercifully disappeared back to whence he came, you catch a glimpse of a guy who looks eerily familiar being towed into a giant wave at Teahupo'o while flipping channels past the surf channel. You keep flipping to the video poker tournament and put the whole debacle out of your mind.
