Born a Swimmer. My story: Part I.

I know I have mentioned it a few times that I was (am?) a swimmer, and I am sure I will continually make references to it in the future so I thought I would give anyone and everyone a little background as to where I come from. I think its a pretty good story and is at least entertaining, even if you don't know me. I feel like my stacked shoulders are a dead giveaway to my swimming past, or maybe it’s my bad coordination. Or perhaps the fact that I have had four shoulder surgeries and will no doubt have more. Whatever it is, I thought I would provide people with the story of my swimming career. But no, I don’t want to start where things get interesting, because then you would have no idea about the ten years before that!

My mom was a swim coach in her younger years and swam herself for training. While I was busy becoming a human, I swear she swam so much that I picked up on the soothing feeling of the water. After my incredibly late entry into the world (sorry, Mom) she started coaching another season of boy’s swimming. I went to my first swim meet at two weeks old. My dad sat with me all meet in a quiet room, but I am sure that I was throwing out butterfly arms and breastroke kicks every once in a while. I was always around water, and my mom said I always loved being in/around it. I guess I went off the high dive at the age of three, something I don’t know if I could do now. I was a little fish.

Just calculating splits in my tiny little head.

 

I take that back, I was comfortable in the water... unless it was cold.

 

Thankfully, my parents had a wonderful swimming fashion sense for me as a babe.

 

Setting records for my age group.

Ever the little active human, my parents had me in all sports I was interested in. Track, gymnastics, soccer, cross country skiing, downhill skiing, swimming. To be honest, I didn’t excel at anything. I am sure my parents thought they had a dud athletic child on their hands. I saw myself in videos and I know I missed the coordination gene. Even now, I would bet good money against me catching a ball. I can't dribble a basketball and walk at the same time. See, my parents were stud athletes in their own right (and still are). My mom grew up in the 70’s and really challenged the gender equality line when it came to sports. She ran like a gazelle all the way to Cornell, where she was a member of the collegiate track team and ran some respective times. After her collegiate career ended, she moved out west and quickly found cycling, triathlons and soccer. She had joined a women’s soccer league with some of her friends and upon showing up to the first day of practice saw this guy with his shirt off rounding up the ladies. Enter my dad, an all-around athlete who sharpened his athletic skills with any one of his five brothers while growing up and played rugby in college. He had also taken up cycling as a mode of transportation after moving out west from Delaware and enjoyed hiking, climbing, triathlons and clearly women’s soccer. While their first encounter was my mother slide tackling my dad, their relationship made some drastic improvements and their first date was timing at a swim meet (seriously, go figure).  Much of their early years revolved around racing (crits, triathlons, meets, etc.) and traveling. Even after having me join the Wheeler gang, they continued to train with me in tow. So when they saw this gangly girl with a ratty pony tail out there running around, I am sure they wondered if I would be better off as a chess champion (challenging in its own right, no doubt).

My soccer picture. Don't hate me for being cute.

My mom got a little excited when she found that I both enjoyed running and seemed to do well at long distances. Anything much shorter than a half mile and I would trip over my own feet (again with the coordination). She worked to expose me to her former lifestyle while I participated in all the other sports I could find. Downhill skiing was too much work – they wanted me to BREAK going down hills, which wasn’t my style. I would rather just go straight down like an arrow and have my dad catch (tackle) me at the end. And let’s be honest about gymnastics, it was all about the foam pit and trampoline. Cross country skiing was fun, but the two hour commute to be with the team every weekend was a bit killer for my parents. Soccer was basically just a swarm of kids running around a ball kicking eachother’s shins and maybe once in a while, the ball. I think one of my first goals was me scoring against my own team. And then there was swimming. While I was a natural in the water and totally comfortable, I definitely lacked talent. I was easily distracted and could have cared less about laps. I was so small and I am pretty sure I was in the first heat of everything for the first 7 years of my swimming career.

I joined a local swim team after taking some swim lessons at the age of 5. Like every other child but maybe a little worse I gasped for air every chance I got, clung to the lane line in the deep end and was confused at starts from blocks. Swim meets were more about the amount of sugar I could consume and carefully timed naps with intermittent gameboy playing, and practice was a fun time to practice my bobs and squeal with my friends before sitting in the hot tub. Swim suits hung off of me and I was so tiny I hardly excelled at any stroke; I even struggled with floating (I am still a sinker). I am sure I had some good swims in there, but I never stuck out to any one as a champion and associated being disqualified with getting Dairy Queen ice cream on the way home. I think I eventually made A-Champs, which was our regional championship for Inland Empire Swimming (IES). I remember that those meets were SUCH a big deal when I was little - prelims AND finals with actual medals! Our team made a big deal to make kids excited for championship meets with a pump up week leading up to the meet. I still remember my first Regionals meet at King Aquatic Center (KCAC). My mom drove my bony little butt all the way over to Federal Way in the spring for me to race two events: the 50 back and 50 free (oddly enough, also my best events years later). I was normally one of a few kids from the Eastern side of the state, and we normally kept to ourselves with our parents in the stands. I just remember being completely overwhelmed by the pool. It was THREE pools, and was so deep everywhere. The facility was huge! Coming from a pool that was 3 ft deep, this was a drastic change. KCAC was SO COLD for me when I was so small (seriously, my knees were the biggest thing on my leg and people thought I didn’t get fed enough). My mom would go out for a jog and bring me back a hot cocoa after warm ups to, well, warm me up. I don’t think I made finals my first Regionals, but when I did make a finals it was like woah, I am in the big leagues. My mom used to laugh at me on the blocks. No, not in a mean way! I was just SO MUCH smaller than all the other girls in my age group and I was so dang skinny! I didn't have any special racing suits because they were too expensive and I just didn't 'mature' very quickly. But, I was still always so happy at meets. I liked to stand behind the blocks and try to socialize. And seeing as how I was normally one of two or three swimmers that my team had taken to the meet (or none) I was totally oblivious to what I was supposed to be doing. I just liked snacking and swimming and snoozing. Swimming and snacking and snoozing. I honestly don’t think I broke a record ever and probably only ever made qualifying times in the 50 free and 50 back because I was so small and skinny I could snake through the water.

One of my first meets at Federal Way. Nice foam lined goggles.

Basically what I am saying is that I wasn’t that great. Even on a tiny team in Eastern Washington (where swimming struggles as a sport), I wasn’t that great. Had I been anywhere else, I am sure a coach would have talked my parents out of letting me pursue swimming. While I really liked the water I just didn’t show much talent at all. As I rounded the middle school age, I had narrowed down my sports. I liked running, but there wasn’t a club program anywhere, so I only did track on my school team. I excelled, but it wasn't the kind of challenge I wanted. Plus I had the worst bone structure problems being the growing weed that I was with size ten feet, so I rarely practiced anyways. I still look back on these days with complete envy: I never practiced, didn't train, and ran faster miles than I could dream of now (5:32). I was really enjoying that, but liked swimming more. I also liked soccer, but didn’t want to sacrifice swimming and meets for far-away soccer tournaments. Also, I struggled with the all girl team aspect (funny, I still struggle with that same atmosphere). After all, I was the smallest girl on our soccer team and could often be found near the goalie just hanging out and kicking grass. I was kind of given an ultimatum; I had to pick one sport. I just couldn’t maintain all of them. So, I chose swimming.

And I immediately regretted that decision for a really long time.

 

My baby brother

I know swimming isn't really related to travel at all, but its still fun to talk about for me. Lately, I have missed swimming a lot and want to re-enter the swimming world, if only for a few masters swims. I raced a bit a few years ago off the couch and impressed myself with what I am still able to do. But I still have a lot of close ties to swimming, and while my racing career is long gone (like seriously, a decade) I get to continue to watch my brothers and many friends careers take off. So because I might post about swimming in the future, I figured I would lead in with why it means so much to me and my family.

 

If anyone knows me really well, they know what a role swimming has played in my life. I was born loving the water and went to my first swim meet at the ripe old age of two weeks. My mom had me in the pool before most babies were crawling, and I never stopped.

 

They put me in the most embarrassing swim suits though. Its amazing I kept with it.

 

My parents put me into swim lessons along with all the other activities you put kids into to try to wear them out before bed time. Soccer, gymnastics, track, cross country, 4-H (yeah, I grew up on a farm), you name it. I don't think my parents ever expected my brother or I to really become swimmers. Both my parents were amazing overall athletes, and my mom secretly hoped I would always be a runner. I loved the water, but I hated practice. And when I was young I was so DANG little that the talent just wasn't there. I never qualified for much of anything and looked like a twig in comparison to other swimmers my same age. 

 

Pipsqueak.

 



Eventually, I started to get more serious about swimming and started to qualify for meets. Believe it or not, I used to hate backstroke (which ironically became my baby, pride and joy).

 

And then, suddenly, everything changed. I started to grow a little bit, and I managed to qualify for so many meets. I started setting records and traveling all over, and even had internationally ranked times for my age group. I was a member of the Junior National team and started to really see where swimming could take me. I swam some amazing times (ALL of my best times were either sick or not tapered) and was only training an hour and a half five times a week. Things really started to come together and my swimming future started to lay itself out. I had my family at almost every meet cheering me on, which was my biggest support system. Being stuck in a tiny town and a program I had already outgrown with a terrible coach, I was so glad I had my family along for the ride. I qualified for Trials and was certain with proper training I could make the final heat. And then there was the fateful Saturday practice... Trials was my last swim meet at age 16.

 

But anyways, that's a totally different story. But it leads in to the meaning of my post. The whole time, my little brother Ian tagged along to all my swim meets. He started swimming because it was what he was around all the time and who doesn't want to follow in their older sister's footsteps? I always remember his cheers - very distinct little brother cheers - 'go, thither, go!' He had a problem with his 's' when he was little, and it just kind of hung around. I even remember at meets how he would try to get as many autographs as possible. He even snuggled up to Lenny Krayzelburg at US Open. Anyways, the kid was a champ. My swim meets were his swim meets. When I was at Trials, he was SO excited. Even when I went to college, he was always so happy to talk about the team and who I trained with. Gradually, he got a little faster. See, he was a 'late bloomer' like his sister in that we have really only gotten better with age. Had I continued swimming, I bet my best years would have been in my early 20's. He joined Tacoma Swim Club, found his calling in distance free and never really looked back.

 

Its been a rough road for him, but then again, that's life. He choose to swim at University of Hawaii, but it didn't quite work out. Finding himself a little lost and more anxious about swimming than in love with it, he swam at Trials last year (2012). I was so proud of him for making it. What big sister gets to cheer on her brother, just as he did for her 8 years before!? After the meet, he was trying to figure out his next step. He really loved open water and while he wanted to continue pursuing that, the real bread and butter was in pool swimming. I reached out to my old coach Mark Schubert from USC who I had stayed in touch with, and Mark was willing to train Ian without hesitation. And, they hit it off. Ian moved to Huntington Beach with the support of our parents and me and the last year has gone so well! I am so excited to continue to watch him swim and grow and can't wait for what this year has in store for him. I can't believe 10 years ago he was the tiny kid running around Long Beach looking for autographs while his sister swam. Ian, I think you've hit the jackpot. This is it, bud. Enjoy it because you've earned it. 

 

Way, way, WAY proud of my little brother. I am so happy to play a support role in his swimming career. Now, to actually race in the same meet or open water. This summer? 



My first spring weekend

I know I need to write about my big trip(s), I know I do. I just can’t quite muster the energy to relive the entire thing, so I will make do with my weekend adventures. As some of you might know, I am from a acts-smaller-than-it-is town in Eastern Washington known as Yakima. While this town receives attention for its incredibly high crime rate, it’s the town I grew up in and while I normally regret it after about 6 hours inside city limits I do love going home. This weekend, the weather was nice in Seattle. Extremely nice, but I wanted something warmer. With boyfriend and bikes in tow, I headed over the mountains Saturday. It was a gorgeous day and I felt so bad for driving it. I made up my time outside on Sunday though. After making a lovely Gluten Free Easter breakfast, we sat outside in the sun for what seemed like forever before headed out on a bike ride.

 

Seriously, who wouldn’t want to bike here? Gorgeous scenery, plenty of climbing to your heart’s content, endless quiet country roads that go for miles; Yakima is a cyclists secret.

 It was a great day. But I started to fade. As my cycling-crazed boyfriend reminded me, I hadn’t ridden in about 9 months, and the ride I chose probably wasn’t the best for a first ride. The last third of the ride was slow going. Shout out to JB for pushing me up some hills and luring me to the finish line with a milk shake.

During the ride, I had been feeling some toe pain. See, a few months ago I got some super minor frostbite compounded by some toe bang (exactly what it sounds like) which resulted in a really ugly brown and purple toe. I thought we were on the mend, until I realized I was losing my toenail a few days before Ecuador. For protection, I tried to make it last. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. After making it through Ecuador, my toe nail decided it just couldn’t hang on any longer and died during our bike ride. So, flip flops it is for a while.

Ride completed, all packed up and milkshake in tow we headed back to the Ocean side.  But, I will be back over to the East side in a few days, hoping to soak up some more of that glorious sunshine.

 

I hope everyone had a fantastic Easter and has had a great start to their week!