Hey everyone,

I have a lot more to write about but I'm working on some frayed emotions.  Here's the teaser: I was at the police station in Beijing 3 hours after my race worried that Diana might get deported.  Everything's fine now but it'll make for a good story once I sit down to write it.

-Mark

This is my last post until after my race.  I’ll have a lot to write about on the 22^nd and I’m looking forward to sharing my experience over the next couple of days with all of you.

The race is at 9 am local time on the 21^st.  I’ve told most people that this means 6 pm Pacific on the 20^th, but there’s no telling when NBC is going to air the race.  There’s a guarantee that NBC will not show the entire race and it’s likely that you’ll get to see 5 minutes here or there throughout the night (it may also be on MSNBC or USA or another channel so check the local listings).  If you want to ensure that you are watching the race LIVE then you’ll have to go to nbcolympics.com and watch it on the internet. 

            The posts over the past month have covered a number of topics but I left out matter that is important for me to share and may be interesting for you to read.  It’s a testament of faith in relation to anxiety before big swimming races. 

One of the great dangers of a successful athlete sharing his faith is the backlash reaction of an occasionally hostile audience who may think that I believe that God took my side in the competition.  I don’t believe that, but I do believe that God gave me peace when I asked for it.  Here’s the story:

Back when I was a pool swimmer I would get very anxious before big races.  Behind the blocks I told myself that I had spent so much time swimming and I had made so many sacrifices that if I didn’t do well in the race those sacrifices would have been wasted.  I would stand up on the blocks and my heart would be beating out of my chest.  My muscles would tighten and my confidence would sink.  I was paralyzed by anxiety in the moment, so much so that I couldn’t perform when the gun went off. 

            About a year ago, before the USA Olympic Trials in Fort Myers, I realized that I needed to confront my anxiety instead of hoping that it wouldn’t surface at the last moment.  I offered up a simple prayer of thanksgiving, and asked the Lord to give me peace of mind in those horrible moments before the race.  And, that’s exactly what happened - I wasn’t anxious at any point before or during the race.

That moment in Fort Myers stuck with me when I went back into training for the World Championships, but I didn’t really put all of the pieces together.  I knew that I had taken a major step in my faith, but the larger picture of what it all meant was still a bit hazy.  Then, as the race in Seville approached, I came across a song that I really enjoyed - Mat Kearney’s “Undeniable.” 

On the day of the 10K, the race that would determine the Olympics, I looked at the race course and said to myself “by lunchtime….you’ll know.”  I put on my mp3 player and found “Undeniable” on the list.  I stood there listening to the song and the words of the chorus jumped out at me:

(chorus)

It’s undeniable how brilliant You are

In an unreliable world You shine like a star

It’s unforgettable now that we’ve come this far

It’s unmistakable that You’re undeniable.

The line that got me most was “It’s unforgettable now that we’ve come this far.”  I stood there just a few feet from the water and it dawned on me that my long journey was a deliberate path to realize something that day: The highs of my career (1999 World University Games) had been necessary to make the lows (everything from 2000 to 2006) even greater.  The lows were necessary to make me realize that the highs were fleeting and that joy in life doesn’t come from winning or losing.  The joy of winning is temporal, the joy of the Lord is everlasting.  Not only did I have peace in the moment in Seville, but I experienced an incredible amount of joy before and during the race.  (At least until the pain got to me). 

In the year leading up to the race I did make the request to God to give me the strength to do my best performance, but the realization of peace and joy before the race is the testimony.  I had always been such a nervous wreck in my career, but at the most nerve-packed moments I’ve ever been apart of, I had complete peace. 

I believe that God is looking over all of us right now.  I don’t know why one person makes the Olympics and another doesn’t but I do know that whatever happens in the 10K here in Beijing I’ll be at peace.  If I am successful or not I will leave the race knowing that God was with me on the journey that got me here and he’ll continue to be with me long after Beijing.

My testimony is my own, so it’s probably not going to help you a lot if you’ve got anxiety issues.  Aside from reading the Bible, which from my own experience can be incredibly difficult to follow at times, a good resource is mp3 sermons.  (You get the benefit of the information without all the heavy lifting).  The sermon that really helped clear up a lot of my issues was “The Umpire of Peace” from 10-22-06 at Reality Carpentaria. 

-Mark

It’s Friday night in Beijing and we’re less than a week away from race day (Thursday morning the 21^st).  My wife Diana, accompanied by my brother Paul and sister-in-law Anna, will be departing LAX on a red eye very early Saturday.  My parents, with my sister Kara, lifelong family friend Dave Thoreson and my coach Gregg Wilson will be leaving out of SFO later in the same day. 

There’ve been quite a few significant moments in my Olympic experience thus far, but they’ve been enjoyed without those that I hold most dear.  I’m ready to share the remainder of the experience with the people that have made tons of sacrifices in their personal lives to make this Olympic dream possible. 

Significant among those making sacrifices is my wife Diana who, amongst other things, orchestrates the daily happenings of our lives with sensitive care to my swimming schedule.  If you don’t know a dedicated swimmer I’ll inform you of a little insider information right now - living with one can be very demanding.  An unassuming bride 5 years ago, Diana married me and got my lifestyle, and she’s done it all with a beautiful smile.

Also, my parents, who have been tremendously supportive over the years.  My mom was so nervous in both Fort Myers and Seville that she couldn’t watch either race.  That may sound silly at first, but it’s completely understandable when you remember that between my dad’s decathlon career and my swimming career she had to endure 6 Olympic Trials of heartbreak before experiencing the other side. 

Now, before I get all weepy, lets move on to the main event.

10K pre-race analysis.  I’m currently ranked 7^th in the world.

First, the good news. 

1. My learning curve over the past year has been enormous, and in terms of tactics and strategy I don’t think anyone has an advantage over me.
2. The water is going to be a very hot 84 degrees, which plays to my advantage.  I’ve never worn a full body suit, but many of the swimmers in the race have grown accustomed to the full body suit and those swimmers will have to make the choice: go with the full body suit they usually race in, or go with a smaller suit that won’t make them overheat.  Body temperature is going to play a huge part in the race.

Now, the bad news.  Everyone else is really fast and it’s going to take the swim of my life to win a medal.  Here are the significant contenders that I’m going to have to take down.

1.      Vladimir Dyachin is brilliant and fast.  He’s the Russian World Champion and he will swim a nearly perfect race. 

2.      David Davies, from Great Britain, got second at the World Championships, he’s very fast and his learning curve is about a great as mine. 

3.      Thomas Lurz, from Germany, is also highly intelligent and also very fast.  The guy is legitimate. 

Now for the news that is neither good nor bad.

Everyone in the top 10 is pretty much equally fit, so that’s a draw.  The variables of the Olympics could determine everything: who ate what in the week before the race, who stayed focused in training, and who will get nervous before the race.  And, significantly, who will make a mistake in the race.  There’s always mistakes made in a race, it could be any of us, and there’s no way to tell who is going to be kicking themselves afterwards. 

This is the second to last post until after the race.

-Mark

A few thoughts from the athlete spectator section of the Water Cube. 
 
Having been to every level of swimming competitions I can make this assessment:  NCAA's is the most exciting meet to be apart of, the Olympic Trials is the most emotional meet to be apart of, and the Olympic Games are just plain bizarre.  At the Olympics, the greatest honor in sports is given to an athlete, National Anthems are played and tears flow...but there's definitely a feeling of confusion.  I thought I'd compare the 3 biggest events in swimming NCAA's, the Olympic Trials and the Olympics from the perspective of a spectator.
 
NCAA's are incredibly exciting because every point counts.  Spectators are intense about the "B" final because often times the team championship is determined by the difference between a 15 place finish and a 16th place finish.  Every heat and every race matters.  The crowd support is excellent, and is very partisan based upon college affiliation. 
 
Olympic Trials spectators are typically family members of the swimmers, and they are well aware of the stakes of the meet.  Everyone that goes to the Olympic Trials is swimming smart.  All the spectators know what is at stake and everyone is well aware of the selection procedure.  When someone gets first or second at the Olympic Trials, especially when it's their first time, the entire crowd acknowledges the significance of the moment.  Tears of joy and sadness make the Olympic Trials an emotional rollercoaster that is unrivaled in the swimming world.
 
The Olympic Games are just plain confusing.  For starters, when the athletes get introduced they don't know if they are supposed to wave to the crowd after the Chinese announcer has is finished, or until after the Australian announcer is finished.  And even if the athlete knows when to wave, the crowd is either speaking Chinese or English or something else, so everyone cheers at different times and there is no real defined moment when an athlete gets announced. 
 
Also, there's people like George Bush, Cindy Crawford, Bill Gates and Kobe Bryant in the crowd.  Other than being a distraction, these people have no idea what is going on in the pool.  They may get the idea when Michael Phelps is under world record pace, but they're a bit clueless for most of the competition.  Olympic Games tickets are hard to come by, so the REAL swimming fans have to fight for a seat here or there, while dignitaries and socialites get prime seats.  I just mentioned 4 famous Americans, but that number gets multiplied dozens of times over from every country, so it seems like there's a lot of people in the stands with great seats asking each other "Why isn't Michael Phelps swimming the 200 breaststroke?"
 
But, there IS one moment of clarity in all of the confusion.  The moment that cannot be rivaled in swimming, and the moment that makes everything worth it, is the medal ceremony.  The races are exciting but THE moment from the Olympics are when the athletes are standing on the podium and the flag gets raised.  The confusion in the crowd vanishes and the barriers of language and nationality are dulled.  I love putting my hand over my heart and singing the National Anthem.  I can feel my voice coming from my chest and I get emotional every time it happens.  But even when America doesn't win, I still stand there in awe, watching someone tear up, and I recognize the significance of the moment. 
 
I've had a few people ask me about Phelps and what he's like as a teammate, and I can say this with a clear conscience: he's probably the best teammate on the American squad.  Maybe it's because he never competed at the NCAA level and he doesn't have a significant affiliation to any particular club team, but Phelps has impressed me time and time again over the past month with his enthusiasm for those around him.  Because he's constantly racing he's not in the stands leading cheers, but there's no doubt that he's supportive of his teammates.  I've got to give the guy a lot of credit because he could easily separate himself and be totally self-absorbed, and I wouldn't fault him for it at all, but he has done the opposite. 
 
Training for the 10K is winding down.  I did a set recently
 
5x
300 on 3:30 ave 3:10
200 on 2:30 ave 2:06
100 on 1:30 ave 1:00
 
Everything was strong to fast and I felt really good about my body position and my stroke.  Things are looking good for the race.

-Mark

First things first: 10K swimming. 

The prep for my race is going well.  I did a pulling set yesterday:

1000 went 10:49

10 seconds rest

2000 went 21:15

20 seconds rest

3000 went 31:14 (last 1500 was a 15:32)

Other than that there isn’t much to report.  I’ll give you a pre-10k race analysis in a few days, but at this point it’s simply maintenance work until the 21^st.

And here’s the part that proves the point - Phelps’ individual performances aren’t even the highlight of the meet.  The swim of the Olympics thus far was obviously the 4x100 Free Relay.  Jason Lezak just put himself in a very special place historically.  It’s a race that will go down in swimming lore as one of, if not THE greatest race of all-time.  The USA National Team, watching from the stands, reacted the way that Oprah Winfrey audience guests typically act when Oprah starts giving things away.  It was, by far, the most excited I’ve ever been as a spectator of anything.

The day after the Opening Ceremonies I was contacted by the same NBC producer that organized the “Mark Warkentin: Avocado Farmer” story.  He wanted to film another story, this time with me doing something that is native to China.  The original idea was to take me to get a Chinese massage.  I liked this idea, but for some reason Mark Schubert (National Team Coach) did not share my enthusiasm, so NBC came up with a different idea – teach me how to do Tai Chi.  And that’s what happened. 

The next day I met the NBC television crew who were accompanied by a Tai Chi master, and we went of in search of a suitable place to do Tai Chi.  We eventually came upon a grassy field with bamboo in the background and the Tai Chi master started demonstrating the moves of skill.  He demonstrated the skill in slow-motion, all very elegantly, and it only took a few minutes to realize my preconceived fear that I was going to look very stupid when I tried the same moves. 

            Here’s where things got crazy.  After about 10 minutes the guy was done showing me the general idea of Tai Chi, and I took my position about 4 feet behind him with the plan of shadowing his moves.  The Tai Chi master had a different plan.  He wanted to demonstrate the moves ON ME.  He came up close to me, grabbed me by the arm, did something fast and crazy and I was on the ground.  The scene was straight out of a movie: a Neanderthal bad guy (in this case me) gets dropped by the older, shorter Asian guy that is faster and smarter than anyone else alive. 

I got up, brushed off the grass from my shirt, and prepared for whatever was going to happen next, which turned out to be him taking me down again.  This time he wanted to SHOW me how he was going to take me down.  There was a lot of Chinese grunting that I think I was supposed to understand, which I didn’t, and then a few seconds later I was on the ground again.  This scenario repeated itself about 10 times before the NBC people decided that it was time to stop the contest.  I think the NBC producer was anticipating non-combat Tai Chi lessons rather than full contact Tai Chi so he told the guy to stop the beating and to teach me something that didn’t involve me ending up on the ground. 

            So, I took a shadow position behind the Tai Chi master and started to mimic his moves for the NBC camera.  Unfortunately, we didn’t get very far into the lesson.  The guy was a perfectionist and he kept stopping the demonstration to scold me for incorrect technique.  He would scold me every 5 to 7 seconds for incorrect form such as not having my fingers relaxed enough.  At one point the guy stopped trying to teach me proper form and went to have a word with the interpreter.  I didn’t know what was happening, but a few moments later the interpreter came over to me and told me that the Tai Chi master was upset that I wasn’t learning Tai Chi fast enough.  He told me, and I am not making this up, that I should “try harder.”

            I realized that I had offended the guy so I told the interpreter to relay the message that I was an idiot and that my inability to learn Tai Chi was no reflection on his teaching.  He liked hearing this and we were much better friends for the rest of the day. 

            I don’t know when the piece is going to air on NBC, but I was told that it would probably be shown nationally.       

(I'll be on the Hugh Hewitt show on Tuesday at 3:20 pacific)

-Mark

The sad part about Day 1 was that we have gotten so spoiled by Michael Phelps breaking World Records that we have become desensitized to a certain extent.  Don’t get me wrong, we were all cheering like crazy in the stands, but there was a feeling like the moment made sense.  Everyone was excited, and everyone was impressed, but there wasn’t a feeling of “That was the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen.”  It was more like “What a great way to start out the meet!”  It was expected that he would win, and expected that he would go fast, but 4:03 isn’t fast, it is stupid fast.  Remember the 400 IM in Fort Lauderdale in 2002?  Remember what we all thought when we watched that race?

By the time that Larsen’s 400 Free came around I don’t think anyone in the natatorium would have been surprised to see someone break 3:40.  No one did break the barrier, but it was an incredible race.  I’ve never watched a race longer than a 200 where there was a good argument that 6 guys could win the race.  Larsen is a big-time racer.  He didn’t win, but he swam a manly race against an incredible field.  The highlight of Larsen’s race actually came after the awards ceremony when Larsen called out to President Bush who got up from his seat, came to Larsen at the barrier between the deck seating and the spectator seating, and the two shook hands.  Then Larsen handed the First Lady his awards ceremony flowers.  It was a really cool moment to witness because it wasn’t staged or planned. 

I’m sure everyone saw the rest of the night so I won’t get into it.  A few good and a few average swims. 

Instead of going to the second session of prelims I went to a swim practice at a different pool to get some good training in rather than the madness of the warm-up pool at the Water Cube.  Maybe it was the excitement of the morning session, but I had a really good pulling set:

1000 10:49

10 seconds rest

2000 21:15

20 seconds rest

3000 31:14

My last 1500 was 15:32 which is almost my best time in a 1500.  Granted I’m a much better puller than swimmer, but I was still pretty happy with the results.

Day 2 Finals So, not to downplay the rest of the races, because Christine Magnuson had a great race, but the Men’s 400 Free Relay is an instant classic – perhaps the best ever.  I know you’ve seen it (if you haven’t seen it you need to go NOW and see it immediately) but I’ll give you the perspective from the USA section of the stands.

            First of all, I saw Matt Grevers in the cafeteria before breakfast and I congratulated him on breaking the world record.  He thanked me and said “Yeah, it’s pretty cool to hold it for 12 hours.”  It’s so bizarre that everyone knew for a FACT that the world record was going to be broken.  So, when the lead-off swimmer from Australia broke the world record and Michael went incredibly fast, it was totally expected.  In fact, in the stands before the race, Erik and I were discussing HOW MANY people might break the world record in the 100 as the lead-off.

            Fast forward to the moment that Lezak jumped into the water.  I thought the race was over.  OVER.  It was pretty weak on my part to totally give up, but I did.  As Jason jumped in I had some sort of exchange with Erik where I asked him if it was possible to make up a body length and Erik’s response was “On the guy that held the world record until about 2 minutes ago?”  It was pretty clear we were getting the silver medal. 

            Everyone learns in their career, usually at a dual meet in college, to recognize the lane lines and the waves.  Jason rode an enormous wave – perfectly.  Textbook.  But even with riding the wave I thought that he couldn’t catch him.  I thought we were going lose until the scoreboard verified the time.

            I realize that every camera in the natatorium was pointed at Jason and the rest of the team, but I wish there was one that captured the moment in the stands.  The USA National team, filled with veteran athletes and Olympic Gold medalists, completely went nuts.  We acted like a combination of high school cheerleaders and Oprah Winfrey audience members.  I was a child.  I don’t remember ever being that excited watching a sporting event, and if you love swimming, I challenge you to give me a better moment. 

Nothing else to write at this point.

-Mark

Hope all is well with all of you.  I really appreciate the e-mails that I’ve gotten over the past few weeks during this trip.

-Mark

I had lunch today with Bob Bowman, Batman’s coach, and we were talking about being appreciative of the situation.  He said: “The athletes from the larger countries may complain about this or that, but there are people here that are going to live better during these two weeks than they have ever lived before.”  I thought about it for a moment, and even though I knew he wasn’t talking about me I said: “Well, I think I may be one of those people.”  I’m a spoiled American, I know that, but I’m having an incredible time so far.  I don’t want to gush too much, but the following post (which covers the first two days here) is pretty much an advertisement for the Beijing Olympics.

First thoughts from Beijing.  August 5^th 2008

I don’t know what you’ve heard or read about this Olympics, but I can assure you that this place is about ready to burst with excitement.  Everything is huge, everything is organized, everything is planned and prepared and just in case there’s a problem there’s 50 Chinese standing on every street corner willing to help.  I’ve never been to the Olympics before, but from what I can tell, China wants this Olympics to dwarf everything that came before it. 

The people are motivated, friendly and well-spoken.  The facilities are state-of-the-art.  The food is spectacular.  Basically, if you read my last post, you can disregard the word substitution key…because this place is awesome.

            Monday was travel day to the Olympics, and I decided to dress for the occasion.  I donned the sweater vest again because it’s so outrageous, but this time I wore the white shorts instead of the white pants to go along with the white shoes.  Before departing Singapore Dara Torres noticed I was dressed for success and asked me: “Mark, why are you so dressed up?” and I responded “Dara, I’m going to the Olympic Games, I thought I should look nice.” 

It was a good thing I did dress well because the flight to Beijing, onboard Singapore Airlines, was the nicest flight I’ve ever been on.  I believe the plane was the largest commercial aircraft in the world, the service was incredible, and the food was worthy of a fine dining restaurant.  I am not making up the next sentence: I could live in my seat on the Singapore Airlines plane for at least a month without a single complaint. 

            We arrived in Beijing in the afternoon, and hundreds of people were waiting for us at the airport.  (Actually they were waiting for Batman, but everyone else got a lot of attention too.)  We were hurried onto buses and taken by police escort through Beijing.  In preparation for the Olympics, Beijing did a bit of an environmental makeover.  Thousands of trees line the sides of the freeway from the airport, so much so that it felt like we were going away from a city rather than towards the city.  A thick blanket of greenery was our only view until we were in the middle of Beijing. 

            The Olympics dominate every aspect of Beijing and for a tourist coming to the city you’d probably miss out on the typical cultural experience.  The city in clean as a whistle and the streets are free of congestion.  The planning for this event is obvious at every turn, and, with the barricades, high-tech name tags, and general security presence, Beijing has the feel of a post-apocalypse city.  

On Monday night we went to the Water Cube, which is only a couple of hundred meters away from our dorms, but takes 20 minutes to get to because you have to walk to the bus depot and then drive around the village to get to the venue.  We’ve all seen the Water Cube and gawked at it for the past 2 years, but finally seeing it was pretty special.  It really is different than any other pool I’ve ever seen because the architecture of the building was given more planning and thought than any natatorium before it.  (If you’re a Gene Hackman fan rest assured that the pool itself is regulation size.) 

The interior of the Water Cube is beautiful, and the spectator seating goes up and up and up.  I was however a bit disappointed to see that so many of the prime seats in the natatorium have been reserved for media.  China wants these Games to be broadcast to the world, which is fine, but Olympic tickets for swimming are scarce, and many of the athlete families will have to watch their loved one swim from a television screen rather than in person because the journalist section takes up half the seating.

The dorm situation is great.  It’s new, clean and organized.  I think I can’t tell you who my roommate is by name, but he’s the world record holder in the 100 Butterfly and an incredibly cool guy.  You figure it out.  The dorm buildings are neatly organized into rows and each country has a group of rooms together in one building or, in a few cases, the entire building.  (USA and China, the two largest delegations, have at least 2 full dorm buildings.)  Every nation puts flags outside their windows and doors so that as one walks around the village you are aware of which building houses which country.  Actually, that’s not entirely true: every nation displays the flag except for America.  Because of security issues, America is absent from the dorm flag display.  Finland is here, Australia, Switzerland, and Brazil are as well, but based upon flag representation America hasn’t showed up yet.  The funny thing is, because everyone knows that America IS here, and because there’s only 2 buildings in the entire village without any flags, it’s certainly obvious which buildings house the American athletes. 

I know this post is getting long so I’ll finish with a quick analysis of the Village cafeteria.  Think of a room the size of Costco.  Now, put about 5 buffet restaurants in there and add a McDonalds.  Throw in a couple of thousand chairs and you have your Village cafeteria.  The food is excellent and there are Chinese people everywhere interested in making the experience enjoyable.  Six people, all with different jobs, served me one piece of chicken and a scoop of rice, and when the sixth and final person handed me the plate they all looked at me, smiled and said “Enjoy your lunch."

I’m enjoying everything.

-Mark

This is my final post from Singapore, and tomorrow I will be in the Olympic village in Beijing.  I feel like I Aubrey Montague from “Chariots of Fire” writing home to his mum.  Actually, at various points over the past few months, I can identify with all four of the major characters from that movie.  I’d love to write that during the journey thus far I’ve emulated the life of Eric Liddell, but often times I find that I am behaving like Harold Abraham.

If you want to get more information on the particulars of the race in Beijing and of Open Water Swimming in general, go to 10kswimmer.com.  Steve Munatones, one of the most knowledgeable members of the 10k swimming community created a website with up-to-date info of everything pertaining to the race.  There’s a popularity contest currently underway and I am in a close battle with a guy from Egypt - your support in my favor would be appreciated. 

Final thoughts from Singapore

I’ve got to give credit to the people of Singapore.  When I was back in Palo Alto I signed quite a few autographs, but most of the fans wanted my signature because they recognized I was in the same costume as Batman.  Here I have people coming up to me saying “Mark Warkentin, could you please sign my autograph book?  Good luck in the 10K in Beijing.”  They even pronounce my name correctly. 

The autograph books themselves are incredibly impressive.  Many of the people would take a picture one day then return with the developed photo the next day.  All the athlete photos would be organized alphabetically and next to each photo was an accompanying athlete biography.  It’s not hard to see why Singapore is an incredibly successful country. 

On Saturday the USA Team was invited to a 6 course dinner at the country club we’ve been training at for the past week.  I sat at a table with Chinese people who lived in Singapore because it’s a more financially advantageous location.  At least that’s what I gathered from our somewhat spotty conversations.  I was given another crash course in Chinese and again I forgot almost everything, except now I also know “Thank You” which is pronounced “Shea Shea.” 

My final practice this afternoon was pretty good.  Coach John gave me a set that we’ve done a few times over the past year. 

50 Ez 50 Strong – 29

100 Ez 100 Strong – 1:00

200 Ez 200 Almost Fast 2:02

400 Ez 400 Fast 4:07

800 Ez 800 Fast 8:28

At the end of a long week of training, working with less sleep than I normally get, I was pretty happy with the result.  Next stop - Beijing

-Mark

In January of 1947 my grandmother, on her way to the mission field of India, traveled through the harbor in Singapore.  At the time she was 8 months pregnant with my dad.  Thus, I am the third generation in the Warkentin line to have been in Singapore as a precursor to a major life event, and even though I am going to the Olympics, my story pales in comparison to my predecessors.  (My Grandmothers trek to India is, without a doubt, the greatest adventure story I’ve ever heard.)  I called my Grandmother the other day (she’s fascinated that I can call on a wireless computer from Singapore to California) and let her know that I may have walked on the same streets that she walked over 60 years ago. 

I spent Wednesday and Thursday between the hotel and the pool and didn’t venture into the city.  Preparation for the 10K race on August 21^st (airing on August 20^th in the evening in America) is going well.  I’m at the maintenance point of my training so there isn’t much to report from the swimming end of things.  All is well in the water.

Thursday was also preparation for skit night.  (Every first-time Olympian must get together in groups of about 5 and perform a funny skit for the team).  My character in the skit was John Naber (former Olympian now working as an NBC broadcaster) and I shaved my face – save the mustache – to get into character.  I got a few compliments on my impersonation but I felt like I hit a double when I really should have hit a home run.

I had Friday morning off from practice so I decided to do a bit more exploring of Singapore.  I studied the subway maps, researched local favorite spots, prepared a plan and embarked at 6:30 am.  The first stop was Little India which was a huge mistake because Little India is on the same schedule as every college fraternity in America - Friday doesn’t really start until about 11 am.  I wandered the desolate streets looking for action and adventure but found nothing but the smell of curry.

I then went to the harbor and took a cable car ride, over the ships and activity of the harbor below, to a small island with bursting with lush vegetation.  Santosa Island is somewhat environmentally protected (no skyscrapers) and visitors can enjoy a day at the beach.  I took a few pictures of the Merlion and then went back to the mainland in search of Raffles Hotel.

For a Western visitor the Raffles Hotel is probably the single most popular destination point in Singapore.  Birthplace of the Singapore Sling and famous for the refined and polished custom of afternoon tea, the location is steeped in history.  Built in 1887 and named after the modern founder of Singapore Sir Stamford Raffles, the Raffles Hotel has been THE place for dignitaries and socialites traveling through Singapore.  I ventured upon the hotel as a sweaty, shorts and t-shirt wearing tourist.  It was one of the rare times in my life that I was truly embarrassed of my attire.  My outfit cheapened the experience (and ruined the décor of the hotel) and I vowed to return dressed more appropriately later on that day. 

When I got back to my hotel I searched my wardrobe for the most outrageously over-the-top high-society outfit available.  The sweater vest, given to me for the Olympics by the USOC, combined with the pants and shoes that will be worn for the opening ceremonies, is so obnoxious that I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.  I went back to the Raffles Hotel confident that I would add to the scenery of sophistication.  (The walk and subway ride to get from my hotel to the Raffles Hotel was rather humorous because I was essentially wearing a Halloween costume). 

Unfortunately I arrived too late to participate in the afternoon tea, but I wandered around the hotel lobby and courtyard and got a picture taken in the historic Billiard Room.  I also went to the Long Bar (located in the Raffles Hotel), site for the creation of the Singapore Sling.  As a member of the USA Swimming Olympic Swim Team I am bound by an honor code not to consume any alcoholic beverage until after the Olympics, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity completely so I ordered the famous drink virgin style.  The drink was tremendously overpriced at $15, considering it consisted primarily of ice, sugar and syrup, but this may be my only time in Singapore and as the local saying goes: “Where else should one partake of the Singapore Sling but at the Raffles Hotel."

-Mark

I’ve been in Singapore for nearly 3 days and I have yet to find the dark underbelly.  Singapore is not like Andy Griffith’s Mayberry, it’s more like Dr Seuss’ Whoville.  The people are, from this observers’ perspective, absurdly good-natured.  While exploring the city yesterday I witnessed a guy digging a trench next to the road.  He was sitting in his backhoe and he had an enormous grin on his face.  I watched him for a few moments and he didn’t stop smiling the entire time – the guy was REALLY enjoying digging with his backhoe. 

I continued to explore, and while walking in the downtown district I encountered a few locals here and there, and they were all positive and upbeat.  Even the electronics salesman that tried to sell me a digital camera for twice the actual value was really quite friendly about the whole matter. 

            The place is also incredibly clean.  There’s no spitting and no chewing gum.  There’s also no litter – anywhere.  Apparently there is a strict no-tolerance policy on everything, but I jaywalked 3 times yesterday and I didn’t get flogged, so I think it’s more of a myth.  Singapore is a success, and I’m interested to find out if there is a Letters to the Editor/Complaint section in the local newspaper. 

            The downside to Singapore is that if someone is looking for authentic Southeast Asian culture I doubt this is the place to visit.  All the street signs/menus are in English, everyone speaks English, and there’s a Starbucks on every corner.  With all of the banks and high-end shopping, Singapore is capitalism on steroids and could easily be confused with a very humid Newport Beach.

            As for the training camp itself: I’m pretty tired.  The reason that I went out exploring the first two days was to prevent myself from sleeping in the middle of the day so as to acclimate to the time difference.  However, it didn’t seem to work out the way I intended.  I did double practices the first two days here (8,000 per) and explored the city in between sessions.  Unfortunately my body didn’t adjust, so I was awake most of the night.  Right now I’m tired from traveling, swimming, exploring and not sleeping.  The combination showed last night and this morning at practice when I had a couple of awful sessions.  Today I decided to take a different approach to my adjustment process and am going to try and rest any time I can, regardless of the hour.     

            One observation from the pool that’s pretty funny.  Every day the swimmers all get in the water for a 7am training session and most of us do an 800 to 1,000 meter warm-up.  During this warm-up period time all of the coaches go to the coffee bar and have complimentary cappuccino or espresso.  They then return to the side of the pool, with a cup and saucer in hand, and casually sip their morning beverage.  It’s rather funny to watch 15 coaches, who typically chug coffee from a 7-11 Styrofoam cup, daintily sip cappuccinos during practice. 

            Skit night is forthcoming.

Flight from San Francisco to Tokyo was fairly non-descript other than my encounter with a guy that was going to Asia to close one sweatshop that paid employees very little so that his company could open up a new sweatshop in a different country that could pay the workers even less.  I’m not going to elaborate.  Flight from Tokyo to Singapore was longer than expected and by the time that I finally arrived in my hotel room I had been traveling for 25 hours - without sleep. 

On the trip to Singapore I did a bit of reading.  I’m currently reading two books (there’s a point to why I’m sharing this information with everyone).  The first is “Disciplines of a Godly Man” by R. Kent Hughes.  As one could imagine, the concept of the book is to use biblical teaching for modern application, and even if you’re not a Christian, it’s a good read.  (I’m not preaching – there’s a reason I’m reading the book).  The second book is “The CEO of the Sofa” by P.J. O’Rourke.  The author pontificates on pop culture and politics from the comfort of his living room couch all while sipping a martini.  The perspectives are essentially polar opposites.

I bring up my reading list because I just arrived in Singapore and my first inclination is to do the opposite of what I am here to do.  I am a mere 2 weeks away from the start of the Olympics and less than a month away from my 10K race and I am faced with a self-discipline problem.  The hotel, the pool we swim at, the meals (thus far only breakfast), the weather, and the general Singapore atmosphere all make me feel like reclining in a lounge chair and enjoying a drink under a palm tree. 

Let me set the stage.  Surprisingly, I couldn’t sleep very well last night so I woke up early this morning and went down to an early breakfast at the hotel.  The most sufficient description of the breakfast is to use the phrase “the best breakfast I’ve ever had.”  Really, the best ever, and I’ve had quite a few good breakfasts.  This wasn’t one of those places that have a waffle bar that everyone goes nuts over.  This was a place with a 20 person staff cooking fresh, flavorful, diverse foods at the whim of the hotel guest.  My breakfast was broken in to about 9 courses consisting of: fresh Indian naan and a plate of breakfast curry, French Toast, poached eggs, an omelet, a fruit platter, smoked salmon with cream cheese, some sort of breakfast pudding, a few rolls and some delicious coffee.  I avoided the pastries and about 5 other stations featuring breakfast items from all sorts of cultures.  For the breakfast enthusiast this was essentially Willie Wonka’s Breakfast Factory. 

After breakfast we had the option of going to the pool to swim.  Since we arrived so late last night we were not required to get in the water, but I felt that it was a good idea to swim considering I had just consumed the equivalent of three meals in 45 minutes.  The pool is at a country club that rivals anything in your neighborhood and the pool looks out over a tremendous golf course.  The pool itself is one of those state of the art aquatics facilities catering to members that exercise leisurely.

Now, to the point.  We all have a bit of a discipline problem in our lives in one area or another.  Reading Hughes book reminded me of many areas of my life that I lack discipline, but I’ll keep this post in relation to swimming.  The circumstances of our current “training camp” are primed for someone to loose their self-control.  For most of the swimmers on the team, this time in Singapore is primarily about adjusting to the time difference and to begin to taper.  (For those who don’t understand “taper” here’s a quick synopsis: Taper is about getting your body and mind extra rest so that it is prepared for peak performance.  This means less swimming and very little hard training.) 

The problem is that we all live a fairly disciplined life at home, in fact our discipline at home is one of the main reasons we made it to the Olympics in the first place.  Those that can avoid the beer and the pastries typically find more success than those that cannot.  Swimming is about discipline and routines and patterns, and we’ve just put a bunch of athletes in a beautiful tropical location where our discipline is going to be tested.  (There’s a “no alcohol” protocol, but there isn’t a “no 10 pastries” protocol.)

I became self-aware of the situation while I nearly sank to the bottom of the pool this morning.  I have to discipline myself in two ways.  First, I need to keep the diet under control.  Some people think that swimmers can eat whatever we want in any quantity, but the reality is that we have all become very efficient at swimming and an 8,000 meter workout doesn’t burn as many calories as you might think.  Second, because I swim the 10K at the end of the Olympics, I have to train hard for the entire time here in Singapore.  While the other swimmers do 3,000 meter warm-up practices and 15 meter sprints for main sets, I have to continue 8,000 to 9,000 meter workouts with a pretty high intensity.  I’m going to be doing a lot of swimming on my own while the other swimmers arrive after me and leave before me. 

The discipline required to fulfill both of these objectives is not unattainable, but often times we set out to discipline ourselves under the assumption that something is easy and quickly find out that it’s more than we bargained for.  I’ve been pretty disciplined in my life and I’m self-aware enough to recognize when I’m being tempted, so it’s a winnable contest, but that’s not to say I can snap my fingers and have complete self-control.  The pastries look good, and doing 8x800 on 9 minutes is not really all that enjoyable. 

Anyway, being disciplined is on my mind and I thought I’d share it with you.

-Mark

This post concludes the training camp in Palo Alto and then moves to our new location in Singapore.

Palo Alto camp

The upside to incredible fatigue is that I allow myself the luxury of getting a massage.  Typically I’m not a big massage guy, but when my lactate gets to 10.0 I know that I need to get the acid out of my system and the only really effective way is through massage therapy. 

For some reason I always feel like a diva (what’s the male version of a diva….divo?) for seeking out massage therapy, but occasionally I force myself to abandon that insecurity and delve into the world of pampering.  Part of my hesitation is due to the fact that so many people get addicted to being pampered – especially when it’s free.  For the next month I can get 5 massages a day if I want, and it’s all free because USA Swimming hires 4 professional therapists full-time for the Olympics.   There’s a very real fear that when my 15 minutes are up (on August 22^nd) I’ll be completely unable to function in the real world without an entourage of people taking care of me.

Anyway, a post training session massage is actually quite painful.  Getting the acid out of the system is not a relaxing processes, but more like the trip to the dentist – painfully necessary.  I spend most of my time wishing it was over and wondering why I signed up for it in the first place. 

This concludes the time spent in Palo Alto.  It was an exciting training camp for me personally because I got to compete against so many top level athletes on a daily basis, and I had some really good workouts.  The set I did on Thursday night before we left exemplifies the success of the camp.  It was already a long week and I had done quite a bit of fast swimming and the set was of no particular significance.  15x100 on 1:20 descend to strong.  After the first 2 repeats I held 1:01 and 1:00 and I was swimming very comfortable.  It felt nearly effortless.

The highlight of the end of the training camp was Larsen’s 20x100 on 1:30.  It was a set I’ve never seen done at this level.  Larsen averaged 55’s and finished with a 53 high.  Every single repeat looked like he was on his last one and had gone into his all-out sprint mode.  I stood there amazed at what I was watching, recognizing that few, if any, in history could accomplish such a feat. 

-Mark

The next few paragraphs are going to be gibberish unless you understand the BEAN.  (BEAN = TAG IN PRACTICE)

It’s under these circumstances that Erik gives me the BEAN.  Now, I’ve got the BEAN, but I’m in the wall lane swimming alone so my only immediate option is to go to lane 2 to tag Erik or lane 3 to get Michael or all the way out to lane 4 to get to Klete.  These lanes are wide lanes so any move from lane 1 to lane 3 is going to pretty obvious.  At first I tried to get Erik, but he’s actually a pretty good player (not as good as me of course) who evaded my tags and so I started to get a bit desperate.  Here’s the problem: My most obvious target is Michael in lane 3, but I must remind you that THE ENTIRE NATIONAL TEAM COACHING STAFF IS WATCHING MICHAEL WARM-UP. 

Not only are the lanes wide, and not only is my target Michael, and not only is the entire coaching staff watching – but now I’ve held onto the BEAN for about 200 meters and the BEAN is starting to make me bitter.  In an act of desperation I go from lane 1 into lane 2 and then into lane 3 to go after Michael.  This is all taking place at the start end of the pool, immediately in front of everyone.  This was stupid because I’m only a first-time Olympian and I don’t have any medals to my name –all at a time when the circumstances were primed for another BRI. 

But, put the circumstances of the moment aside, here’s the real tragedy of the story: I wasn’t focused on my move and I missed on my tag.  I tried to make a second attempt with a leg extension, but Michael is a good enough BEAN player to know how to avoid the leg extension tag.  Now I’m completely covered in BEAN.  I tried to swim down in lane 3 to get Klete in lane 4, but Klete was ready to avoid the BEAN.  A weak and defeated man, I made my way back to lane 1 and I had to hold onto the BEAN for the remainder of the warm-up.  It wasn’t until we consolidated lanes that I could pass the BEAN to a truly awful BEAN player - David Walters. 

Anyway, the BEAN is alive and well at the Olympic Training Camp.

Wednesday afternoon set.  Most of the Men’s team did something fast off the blocks.  The sprinters did 3x100 descend to fast with 8 minutes rest while the mid-distance swimmers did: 2x50 on 1:30 then 1x100 fast 2x through with lots of rest in between.  Here are some of the times that I heard about from the sprinters set:

Garrett Weber-Gale’s 100 freestyle times 55, 51, 48.4

Aaron Piersol’s last 100 backstroke time 53.6

Brenden Hansen’s 100 breaststroke times 1:02, 1:01, 1:00

There were some other incredible times from that group but I thought I would give you the absolute highlights.

Michael did fly and his 100’s (immediately after 2x50 fast fly) were 51.7 and 51.6.  Pete was 50.4 on the 100 free of the second set and there were 3 other guys that were either 50.high or 51.low freestyle. 

If you’re lost right now, all you need to know is that I was apart of what could possibly be described as the fastest training session in the history of the world.  If you’re one of my non-swimming Mennonite family members from Fresno that doesn’t understand swimming at all you may be saying “Who cares about those other guys, what about you?”  The honest truth is that my times may have actually hurt the overall quality of performance.  My best 100 was 54.4.  It’s not a great time, but considering I swim a 2 hour race and I’m dog tired - I didn’t leave the pool overly upset.  My spirits were also boosted because I was faster than Allison Schmitt, who, to her credit, is an excellent swimmer. 

Mark

Over the past few posts I’ve written about what’s been going on in my life here at Stanford, but I haven’t really explained the process of how I actually got here.  If you’ve heard this before you can leave now, but if you’re interested in staying……here goes.

Part 1 2006-2007

            Leading up to 2006 I was a good swimmer but I couldn’t get over the hump - there were too many great swimmers that stood in the way of making it to the top.  I failed to make the Olympic team in 2004 (after failing to make the Olympics in 1996 and 2000 as well) and nearly gave up the sport, but my mom encouraged me to stick with it.  In the summer of 2005 the UCSB assistant coach, Jeremy Kipp (now at USC), encouraged me to do an ocean race in Santa Barbara.  The race was against local fitness enthusiasts mostly in their 40’s and 50’s that swim primarily to stay healthy. 

            Fortunately I won the race, and even though it was against marginal swimmers, it was a big confidence boost.  I still wanted to be a top level pool swimmer, but I could see the writing on the wall.  Open water swimming had started as a novelty, but the curiosity quickly grew.  The following year, 2006, I decided to abandon any hope at a career in the pool and devoted myself full-time to open water swimming.  My original goal was simple: make the USA National Team in the 25 kilometer race.  It wasn’t until much later that I realized that the Olympics were a possibility.

The USA Open Water National Championships for the 25k would be in May of 2006 in Fort Myers, Florida.  That March I changed my training regime.  Even though I was already a distance swimmer that had logged many miles in the pool, I increased my practice distance total from 70,000 meters a week to about 100,000 meters per week.  The goal at the time was to focus on the 25 Kilometer race because there was a very limited number of swimmers in America willing to swim a 5 hour race.  I realized that all I needed to do was to be able to swim for 5 hours at a reasonably fast pace and I could win the battle of attrition.  I figured “Heck, I’m spending 20 hours a week training for a 4 minute race and I’m not finding success, but if I train 30 hours a week for a 5 hour race I can be on the National Team.”  It seemed pretty basic at that point.

So, I went to Fort Myers and I decided to enter the 5K and 10K races that were held a couple of days before the 25K. (Coincidentally, the largest hammerhead shark every caught was reeled in less than 2 miles from the race course – one week before the competition).  To my surprise I got 3^rd in both the 5K and 10K races and beat quite a few accomplished swimmers.  Then, in the 25K, I won the race by 15 minutes and put myself on the National Team.

That week in Fort Myers in 2006 was the beginning of my open water swimming career.  As a National Team member I qualified for the 2007 World Championships in Melbourne, Australia and I spent the remainder of 2006 and the beginning of 2007 training for that competition.  I went to Melbourne with high hopes (I would race the 5K, 10K and 25K over a week long period) but quickly realized that the rest of the world is really good at open water swimming.  In the 5K I got 17^st and in the 10K I got 20^th.  The water was freezing, my confidence was shot, and I was miserable.  Fortunately the final race of the week, the 25K, was my best race and I got 4^th place.  My overall performance was still a bit disheartening, but I reminded myself that 4^th place in the world is better than I’d ever been before in any race.

After Melbourne I came home to Santa Barbara and started to focus on the USA Olympic Trials that would be held in October of 2007.  (Next post: USA Olympic Trials 2007 and World Olympic Trials 2008)

Ralph and Me

On Saturday the team went to San Jose State University to do processing for the United States Olympic Committee (USOC). Last week we’d already gotten a lot of clothing from USA Swimming but the USOC (the parent governing body for all American Olympic sports) has a different set of clothing for the athletes. At certain times over the next month the USOC wants all American athletes to look like a team, regardless if we are 10K swimmers or basketball players or high jumpers. For instance, when we get off the plane in Beijing, all American athletes are required to wear a particular outfit – no questions, complaints or requests otherwise will be tolerated. Similarly, when we give official press conference interviews we are required to wear an outfit with a particular sequence of shoes, pants, shirt and jacket. Diana (my wife) can attest to the fact that I hardly ever dress correctly for any social engagement, so I’m a bit nervous of the dress code police that will be monitoring my outfits.

The primary focus of the processing was to get fitted for our Opening Ceremony attire. My good friend Ralph Lauren is the official outfitter of the USA Olympic Team, and I’ve got to give the guy credit for designing a pretty cool looking Opening Ceremony uniform. The uniform was modeled after the 1920 Olympic Team uniform (as seen in the movie “Chariots of Fire”). Let me back up.

We got to SJSU and were taken into a room about the same size as your high school basketball gym. The room was set up like a grocery store, except instead of frozen foods, dairy products and vegetables, the room was filled with shirts, shoes, pants, jackets and hats. So, per instruction, we all grabbed a Home Depot Shopping cart and started filling them up. It wasn’t a free-for-all (I had a checklist of things that I was issued) but it was still a rather surreal experience. It took about an hour and a half to get through the room and I was as happy as a pig in mud. My favorite part was getting our measurements taken by a tailor with a thick Italian accent. He looked me over once: “44 Regular, 32 Long” and someone appeared with a sport coat and pants. We chatted about suits, neckties and buttons as he sized me up, finishing with “Excellent, this is very nice.” When I got to the last section of the room my shopping cart was full (actually it was overflowing) and my face hurt because I had been grinning for at least a full hour. It was a lot like that moment on your wedding day when you realize that you’ve been smiling for a long time because the muscles in your cheeks hurt.

After we got through the clothing section we were taken to a room where we got measured for commemorative Olympic rings. Now I’m not a jewelry man, but it’s hard not to appreciate a ring that looks like it could be used for a Roman Empire style signature. We won’t get the ring until after we get home from the Olympics, and I’m sure I’ll never wear it, but it felt rather stately to pretend to be Ben Hur for a brief moment. I left the USOC processing having achieved a longtime goal. Former Olympians always talk about the day they got their shopping cart and filled it with Olympic stuff, and for so many years it was a fantasy that I feared would never become a reality. After the processing I did the math: averaging 30 hours a week for 50 weeks a year I have been training for 62.5 days of every year for the last 15 years. Sometimes, when the practice got really lonely I would question the motives for it all. Why? What’s the point? Is it all worth it? I don’t want to be callously materialistic and say that my experience on Saturday was the point for the struggle, but I will say that because of my experience over the past 2 weeks, I am more appreciative of the struggle itself.

I don’t know if I would have appreciated Saturday if it had been an easy road to get there. It was something that couldn’t be bought with money, only with time, pain and sacrifice. I’ll cherish it because I know it was difficult to get there, not just because I was there. When we got back to the hotel we were told that we had more stuff than we could possibly wear in China and that we had the option of sending some of it home. I packed up a box and sent it back to Santa Barbara because I knew that there was a very good chance that something might get stolen or lost in China and I wasn’t about to let that happen. I’ve got some stories on other topics that I’m working on, but I thought I’d share that one for now.

Mark

This post has a bit more swimming info than the first post but I thought that the swimming readers would appreciate some specifics.  I also included the first post (from last week) below in case you didn’t get it.  attachment is of my golf team.

Sunday night the men’s team and the women’s team had separate dinners at the homes of USA Swimming supporters in the Palo Alto area.  When one team breaks up into two teams and embarks on separate adventures, there is always the question as to who is going to have a better experience.  In this case the men’s team dined with the family of Ted Knapp, assistant swim coach at Stanford, and had an excellent Mexican themed BBQ.  Good food, good people - no complaints.  The women (based upon the breakfast conversations Monday morning) had the enviable night though.  The shrimp cocktails and a live Mariachi band tilted the scale in their advantage.  While still being perfectly content...

Report from the pool.  Practices are exciting.  When I was at USC I remember practices being exciting, but it wasn’t like this training camp.  Competing against Michael Phelps and Erik Vendt and Larsen Jensen and Peter Vanderkaay is intense because I MUST be on top of my game every practice.  I can’t have a bad day because I’ll look like a novice swimmer.  (For example: Kick set on Monday 5x200 on 3:40 with 2,4,5 fast.  I went 2:58, 2:54, 2:52 on my fast ones - all fairly decent times.  Larsen, Erik and Michael were in the low 2:20’s.  That’s about 35 per 50 on a kicking set with a board.  The technical term, for those non-swimmers out there, to describe what that means is “stupid fast.”) 

At the same time, the downside to exciting practices is that you eventually become emotionally drained.  When you have to be perfect to win a workout, you often find that you lose more than you win and there is nothing that hurts a swimmer’s confidence more than losing. 

 I think that my personality thrives in competitive environments for short periods of time, and then prefers a little bit of solitude.  This training camp is a perfect situation for my personality because I am going to get to compete with the best in the world for about 3 weeks.  Then, at the end of the training camp, when I am going to be a bit drained, I get a break from the competition and get to do practices alone for the last few weeks leading up to my race. 

Monday afternoon was a good practice.  The main set:

2x400 moderate on 4:40 went 4:28, 4:22

2x300 moderate/strong on 3:30 went 3:15, 3:12

2x200 strong on 2:20 went 2:07, 2:07

30 seconds rest

10x100 strong on 1:30 started at 1:01 moved down to 1:00 towards the end

5x100 almost fast on 1:40 went 59, 58, 58, 59, 58

5x100 fast on 2:00 58, 58, 58, 58, 57

Did the first part of the set with Erik, Pete and Larsen.  When we got to the last 2 sets of 5x100 Larsen and I were the only ones still swimming and we had a fairly good audience of swimmers and coaches watching us go head to head on fast 100’s.  It was simultaneously very painful and exciting to be doing all out 100’s next to America’s best distance swimmer (and holding my own) in front of an elite coaching staff.

Monday night we had a team meeting.  The highlight of the meeting was a 3 minute music video featuring an up-tempo rock song with the chorus line “How Many People Want to Kick Some A**?”  Let me explain: USA Swimming periodically makes music videos with inspiring race footage from the past 20 years of Olympics.  The clips are usually of Matt Biondi, Janet Evans and other legendary swimmers winning dramatic races at the Olympics.  Basically, for a swimming junkie like me, it’s really, really cool.  I almost always end up with blurry vision because the emotions of the Olympics become very real.  This particular music video did the trick again, emphasizing a few races from Seoul, Barcelona, Atlanta and Sydney, but culminating with the dramatic 4x200 Men’s Freestyle relay from Athens where underdog American squad out-touched the Ian Thorpe Australian team. 

After the video the men’s team had a separate meeting and Frank Busch gave a speech about gang mentality.  Frank’s point: there is tremendous power that a group of men, all working together for a cause, have at their disposal.  Use that power.  The combination of the music video and the motivational speech made me want to do something.  I had already swum 2 hard practices, but I felt like I was ready for my race right then.  How many days until the 21^st of August?  5 weeks?  Can I wait that long?

We also elected captains:  Erik Vendt, Brenden Hansen and Jason Lesak. 

Tuesday afternoon practice was pretty good.  Coach John (SBSC coach) gave me this workout by myself because the rest of the mid-distance group was doing a lot of fluff and very little meat.  The entire set is on a 1:10 per 100 base.

800 swim moderate/strong went 8:48

3x1000 buoy only moderate went 11:18 on all

800 swim went 8:42

600 swim went 6:29

400 swim went 4:12

200 swim went 2:02

100 swim went 57

Tuesday night we did a bit of team bonding.  We went to miniature golf and broke up into teams of 4.  My Team: Jessica Hardy, Margaret Holtzer and David Walters.  There’s a six stroke limit on each hole, and our group pushed the limit pretty much every time.  Jessica Hardy is a great swimmer and an awful golfer.

I was pretty beat up after Monday and Tuesday, but I fought my way through a tough Wednesday morning practice with Larsen even if I didn’t feel top notch.  Here’s the set and my times (all swim):

3x400 on 5 went 4:19, 4:15, 4:13

3x100 on 1:20 went 1:02, 1:02, 1:01

1 min rest

2x400 on 5 went 4:17, 4:15

5x100 on 1:20 went 1:02, 1:01 remainder

1 min rest

1x400 on 5 went 4:15

7x100 on 1:20 went 1:03, 1:02, 1:02, 1:01, 1:01, 1:00, 57

This afternoon I was supposed to go to a nearby reservoir to do some “Open Water Training.”  Instead I elected to do a sprint quality set with the fastest swimmers in the world. 

Next post: BEAN in warm-up with the entire National Team coaching staff on deck.  Getting beat by A LOT on a sprint quality set.  Getting a post-training session massage.

mark

Hello everybody,

I'm very excited to be part of SwimRoom.  I'll be posting blogs over the next month or so during training camp and while I'm in Beijing.  For those of you who do not know me, I qualified for the US Olympic team in the 10k swim.  It will be the first time that the 10k will be part of the Olympic Games.

The USA Swimming Olympic Team training camp officially began on Monday the 7th here in Palo Alto. I was the only swimmer that hadn’t just spent the previous 2 weeks at the exhausting Olympic Trials and so I was a bit more alert than my teammates upon arrival at SFO. Most of the swimmers were pretty emotionally drained by the Trials, and the first day was more about recovering than anything else.

USA Swimming is having an extended domestic training camp together as a team before we leave for Singapore on July the 25th because the coaches and team leaders don’t want us to go back home and swim on our own. There is a very real fear that without supervision we might lose our focus and not prepare ourselves properly. This is a problem because there are so many swimmers that are just excited to be going to the Olympics at all. USA Swimming, on the other hand, doesn’t care WHO made the team, they only care about winning medals at the Olympics. So, we have a 3 week training camp where we all swim 2 times a day and we keep our competitive edge by racing each other on a daily basis.

On Tuesday we were taken to the pool where we had a short meeting to determine what training group we would be broken into. Primarily there would be 2 sprint groups and 1 mid-distance group. Since I’m the only 10K swimmer on the team I don’t have anyone that wants to train long distance with me. The result is that I join the mid-distance group for their training session and then swim an extra 2,000 meters after everyone else is done. My training partners in the mid-distance group are a veritable who’s who of the American swimming world: Michael Phelps, Erik Vendt, Klete Keller, Peter Vanderkay, Ryan Lochte, and Larsen Jensen. I am, without a doubt, the slowest swimmer in the group.

Tuesday night Pete Carroll, football coach at USC, was brought in to give us a bit of an impromptu motivational speech. The gist: he was excited for us. I would say that he’s pretty much always excited.

Wednesday was the first day that the intensity of the practice started to increase. It feels rather momentous to be training in this group because I know that at the Olympics the athletes I’m swimming with are going to get the bulk of the primary TV coverage. I won a few of the swims, got beat on a majority of the swims, but I held my own for the most part.

Thursday was Christmas. I’ve often said that the reason I didn’t quit swimming 3 years ago (when I probably should have quit) was because I wanted to get a T-Shirt that said I was on the USA Swimming National Team. Well, Thursday I got the T-Shirt that said I was on the USA Swimming Olympic Team. In fact I got an entire bag of stuff that indicated I made the Olympic Team: shirts, shorts, sweatpants and jackets all with the USA Swimming logo’s on them. It was Christmas.

Thursday night was our first official team meeting. We all introduced ourselves and told the group one interesting fact that no one else knew. I told the group that I’ve had a series of accidents in the past few years, but none was more memorable than cutting my leg with a chainsaw. After the introductions Erik Shanteau (who qualified for the Olympics in the 200 Breaststroke) made the announcement that he was recently diagnosed with testicular cancer. He said that it appeared to be under control for the time being, and that he intends to swim at the Olympics. He’s going to get tests done weekly leading up to the games. It was shocking to hear that he was diagnosed the week before Olympic Trials and then he competed and made the team under the circumstances.

In between practices on Friday we had a meeting called “Being a good Ambassador” where we learned about how to be good visitors to China, how go give good interviews, and more importantly what NOT to do over the next month. The Olympics, on such a big stage, are a stage for incredible high’s as well as incredible lows. Stupid decisions and bad interviews can have some pretty significant implications if everything goes the wrong way.

We also learned how to speak Chinese - it only took about 45 minutes. The Ambassador program included a Chinese lesson from a teacher who gave us a crash course in the language. The problem, as is often the case with crash courses, is that the pupil retains very little information. This pupil remembers “Hello” which is pronounced “Knee-How?” and absolutely nothing else. I will be a very friendly visitor and I intend on saying “Knee How?” quite a bit.

Another rather special event on Friday was when the entire team signed a flag adorned with the letters “USA” in big letters above the Olympic Rings. Actually, the entire team signed about 150 of these flags. Some of the flags will go to donations and charities and some will go to “big shots” at various sponsors. All the athletes were promised that we would each get 1 for ourselves to keep, and as a result I made sure to sign my name legibly on each flag, just in case that particular flag would end up at my doorstep.

Saturday was the final practice of the week. The media and fans had been told that Saturday would be the only day for interviews and autographs during our stay in Palo Alto, so the pool deck was packed. Microphones, cameras, reporters, and hundreds of kids running around trying to get close to Dara Torres and Michael Phelps. The problem is that Michael can only sign so many autographs and Dara can only give so many interviews at one time. The result of the logjam is that autograph seekers started looking for other Olympians until the Dara and Michael line died down. This is where I step in. I happened to be one of the guys that facilitated the fans with a picture or an autograph while they waited for someone else.

I also got interviewed - by one reporter. During the interview another reporter walked up and interrupted the interview to ask the first reporter “Who is this?” “Mark Warkentin, he is our Olympic10K swimmer,” came the reply. The second reporter stood there for a moment pondering whether it was worth it to stick around or not. Fairly quickly he decided that it was not worth it and he backed away and tried to find someone else. (I don't write this with any bitterness, I'm really just happy to be apart of this whole thing, but it was a rather awkward moment that I can now chuckle about.)

It’s been an eventful week up to this point. Today, Sunday, is a day of rest and we don’t have any swim practices so I went to Menlo Park Presbyterian Church and enjoyed the service. Next week begins another week of swimming and whatnot.

Mark Warkentin