1. Learn to swim.
2. Genetically engineer your elbow and knee joints to bend backwards. Preferably at a younger age, take a sledgehammer, and every day or two, just lightly tap on each joint until they are tender. Once nice and malleable, bend each joint just past the point of pain, but not so you break anything. This is excellent for most strokes, but especially backstroke.
3. Buy a torture rack. You won't use this specifically for torturing your competitors, but over time, you'll be able to stretch your shoulders and arms into that long, Phelpsian wingspan.
4. Sleep in an altitude tent. You can purchase this instead of a car, which you shouldn't need anyway, since relying on an automobile for transportation merely impedes potential training opportunities.
5. Don't recognize pain. (See: Kill Bill; Rocky Training Montage.)
6. Be born near a pool. (Tough break, residents of Crown Heights, Brooklyn.)
7. Don't swim any event Michael Phelps swims. Even if he retires, even if he's 50 years old, don't train for the 100 fly, 200 fly, 200 IM, 400 IM, 100 free, 200 free, 100 back, or the 200 back. Furthermore, don't swim the 400 free, or the mile, because I'm pretty sure Michael Phelps could beat you in those events, too. In the slight chance that Phelps decides to make a comeback, you're totally screwed. (So, swim either the 50 free, or the 10k. Nothing else.)
7.5. Actually, don't swim the 50 free. Phelps' sprint stroke looks pretty good.
8. Do not have or even think about having any of the following: friends, a social life, a prom date, a homecoming date, good hair days, fresh-smelling skin, non-goggle marks, fungus-free feet, belly fat, summer vacations, winter vacations, spring vacations, weekends, Saturday mornings, free time to read the unabridged version of Moby Dick, energy to study, energy to talk, energy to not fall asleep in the middle of class, a normal childhood, friends who aren't swimmers, normal-sized lats, body hair, chest hair, back hair, leg hair, clothes that aren't warm-ups, clothes that aren't sweat pants, insecurity about one's body, high body fat percentage, the ability to diet, basketball skills, football skills, any ball-catching skills, an afternoon where you don't have an overwhelming desire to sleep no matter where you are or who you're with, the desire to break curfew because even if you did break curfew your swimming friends won't want to break curfew because morning practice looms in 6 hours anyway, a life without a coach, a life without goals, a life where you don't look at a body of water and say to yourself, "Dude I could swim that butterfly right freaking now," a fear of the water, a fear of failure, a fear of lactic acid, an aversion to authoritative figures throwing pull buoys at you from 25 yards away, any cockiness whatsoever about anything because you know nothing until your coach tells you that you know something, the desire to smoke cigarettes, the desire to consume Big Macs, the desire to sit around and play World of Warcraft 10 hours a day, the desire to live as unpassionate a life as possible, an aversion to one day shaving your head your freshmen year of high school even though you are already socially awkward and you know people are going to stare at you and say things like "those swimmers are too crazy," the need for a high glitz and glamor life, the inability to cope with your own thoughts for hours on end in complete isolation, the body shape of a tuna can, only one lung, the desire to break dance/skateboard/cliff jump/juggle knives/or any other activity that may serve counterproductive to said Goal, a tendency to eat 30 minutes before swimming less you get cramps and die, an unwillingness to race, an unwillingness to laugh at yourself if your suit splits open when bending over to dive, an expectation that you are Gary Hall Jr. and your power of mind will conquer all (because you are not Gary Hall Jr.), parents who don't believe in you, teammates who don't encourage you, coaches who don't inspire you, water bottles that don't hydrate you, the belief that lists like these are even remotely truthful about your alleged chances to win a gold medal, or a reluctance to put it all on the line, one race, one moment, one minute, for a lifetime of glory.
9. Try really hard.
our age groupers just started the sledgehammer tapping this week. it seems to be most effective with the kids who are the least intelligent. LOVE IT.
ReplyDeleteI love this - but I gotta say, the pul buoy getting thrown? 30 years ago, it happened weekly in our pool...today? I sure hope we know better. does take one flashing back to the good old days though!
ReplyDeleteYou really want those joints to be like gooey rubber. If the sledgehammer technique doesn't work, try a vice. Remember: we want golds.
ReplyDeleteHey JoeMama we do know better. Now our coaches throw kick boards, chairs, water bottles, and occasionally that pointy object that makes us bleed at our heads. It is a much more effect technique when we swimmers are jacking off.
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