Reflections

I know I've not written in a while and I'm very sincerely sorry for that. Since the day of my race it's been a whirlwind of activities that has kept me from sitting down on my computer long enough to write something meaningful.

So the topic you've all been waiting for – my race.

I went to bed the night before around 11 pm; woke up around 8 am. I slept like a baby and felt VERY energized. I thought it would be a great day. I did some stretching and a little light “wakeup” calisthenics to get my body going in the morning. As you all know by now preliminaries at the Olympics are at 6:30 pm Beijing time, which means it's different from any other swim meet I've ever done where preliminaries are in the morning. As a result it was imperative that I make sure my engine was warmed up for the rest of the day.

I lounged around a bit, ate breakfast and lunch, and began to prepare for my 100 fly. I took some NO-Xplode as well as some Nitrix immediately before warming up. Things seemed to be working really well. My stroke was coming together, everything felt effortless, I was confident that I'd do something I'd never done before. It was time to go to the ready room.
Sitting in the ready room I went through my usual race visualization, listening to music, and thinking positive thoughts. One thing I noticed however was that I was unable to perfectly visualize my race. I had real trouble “feeling” it through in my mind. I had no choice but to deal with it. They called our heat to walk out. Time to go.

As I started walking out I noticed that I began to shake. While putting my goggles on I had trouble because my fingers were shaking so badly. Now it's normal for me to get nervous; I usually do get excited and nervous before a big race. But somehow this felt different. My usual nerves leave me with a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach and a general lethargy before I go up to the blocks. These nerves had me shaking from head to toe. It turns out that the first type of anxiety is good for me; the second type isn't so good.
Take your marks. BEEP!

And it's on! I had my mind on one thing – touch the wall first. And be FAST. And again...this isn't what I usually have on my mind. Needless to say, it didn't work out so well. I took out the race at a higher rate of perceived exertion than I typically do, and had NO juice coming home the last 15 meters. I can be somewhat “arrogant” in my race strategy during training meets. I usually take the race out as slow as I can deliberately. If I'm hitting the wall in 6th or 7th place at the 50m, I'm in good stead. Then I just come back as fast as I can and zoom past people one by one. Apparently this works best for me. It's a shame I tried to race out hard the first half at the Olympic Games, only the biggest stage for our sport. I suppose that sort of arrogance could've come in handy. I finished with a 54.7, far off my best and also behind my fastest training time from the summer. It's a hard lesson to learn. But I've learned it.

After a bad race there are so many “what if's” that run through my mind. So many possibilities, things I could've changed, etc. etc. I didn't sleep that night out of sheer disappointment. What if I'd have listened to people telling me I should race a meet or two immediately before I go? What if I'd not have forgotten my CellMass? What if I would've just gone out there and enjoyed myself rather than feel pressurized? What if I'd have done a time trial 3 days beforehand to get the jitters out of my system? What if I didn't attend the grueling opening ceremony and rested instead? I feel like I've let a lot of people down having done what I did. It makes me feel spoiled for being here without having contributed something of value to the performance of India's Olympic Team and Trojan Swim Club; even something as simple as a best time would've kept me sane. It makes me feel embarrassed because I didn't deliver. But here I am now. I've competed in the Olympic Games. As my coach Dave says, I got my money's worth. Or did I?

The first day after my race I had too much running through my mind. It got to the point where I debated giving up on continuing competitive swimming after the NCAA season thinking that everyone's passing me anyway. But the more I speak to people and get some perspective, the more motivated I become to continue with greater determination than before. I've come to learn about so many things that I can change and improve upon not just on race day, but during every day of the year. I've come to realize the importance of simulating a World Championship or Olympic-level race at local swim meets rather than goofing off. I may swim the same way, but at least I'll do it with the mindset that this is how I should develop my championship meet strategy as well. To those of you who read this and are multi-time world record breakers and gold medalists in your first Olympic games (past and present), I congratulate you heartily for doing it all on your first go. Now I understand how big a deal it is. That goes for you too Reb. Not even Michael Phelps can say he was a medalist in his first Olympic appearance in 2000.

While I'm far from being in that league (even mentally), I've at least recovered well enough from a poor race to be able to say I'd like to continue on the road toward achieving my goals, small or large. And like I said in my interview to an Indian news agent after my race, keep on rooting for me and all those you look up to. It drives us when we're down, and pushes us when we're weak. It lights our fire and gets us going. And the simple conveyance that one of you may genuinely believe in us even when we don't believe in ourselves may be the difference between spending a whole year dragging our feet or living that same year holding our heads up high. To those of you who have believed in me in such a way, thank you. It's meant a lot.