The natural progression of swimming

By Alan Tapley

Editor’s note:  Alan Tapley is the parent of two female swimmers, ages twelve and fourteen.  Over the past eight years he has been with them at hundreds of meets and practices.  He has had countless conversations with swimmers about what they would like the public to know about their pursuit of this grueling sport.

Swim lessons.  You hope to make it from one side of the pool to the other.  Your best stroke is underwater, holding breath, with eyes open.  The goal is to make it through the lesson without a bathroom break, and to eventually be proficient enough that your mom doesn’t have to watch you closely at the local pool each summer.

Summer swim.  Your goal is to not finish last in the freestyle or backstroke events, and not get disqualified in the breaststroke or butterfly.  You’ll take a ribbon of any place, any color, and you’ll most likely leave it in your parent’s car for the rest of eternity. 

High School swim.  Your first goal was to make the team, then you realized that everyone made the team.  Your second goal was to make it to State, then you realized that only club swimmers made it to State.  Finally, you hope for a banner, a letter, a picture in the yearbook, or a team championship.  Years from now you can make up your own stories of high school greatness.

Club swimming (under 12).  It starts with simply wanting to not go last in your lane until you dream big and desire to move two lanes over sometime soon.  The next step is moving to the Orange group, or the Red Group.  You honestly don’t know the difference between the groups except that the kids are a little older, a little faster, and your parents pay a little more.  Best times start to drop like flies and you dream of making 12 and under State, then contemplating whether to turn pro before or after the next Olympics.

Club swimming (13-14).  You quickly understand the difference between an older fourteen year old and a young thirteen year old.  You are introduced to morning practices, the 200 yard fly, and Snapchat.  Your parents throw up for the first time as they are forced to buy a technical suit. You throw up as your coaches introduce you to long hard sets and dryland.  You hope for drops, fancy cuts, and travel meets.  You would love to make State, but even more so, you’d love to make an All-star squad, or dare I say it, even Sectionals.

Club swimming (15-18).  You have an exam and a paper due next week and are hoping that practice somehow gets canceled.  You swim six days a week, including three morning sessions, and yet you haven’t dropped time in ages.  Your high school coach expects you to throw down a best time with no technical suit, no taper, at a lousy pool, and on a Tuesday afternoon following a full school day.  You’re just trying to make High School state so the pressure is off a little.  If you made Sectionals you are dreaming of Juniors, and if you made Juniors you are dreaming of the next Olympic Trials.  And no matter how well you have done, you want nothing more than to swim at the division I level at your school of choice, but each day that list expands to division II, and III, and now you’re willing to go almost anywhere.   

High School can be difficult

By Alan Tapley

Editor’s note:  Alan Tapley is the parent of two female swimmers, ages twelve and fourteen.  Over the past eight years he has been with them at hundreds of meets and practices.  He has had countless conversations with swimmers about what they would like the public to know about their pursuit of this grueling sport.

High School swimming.  The assumption may be that 30 kids show up on the first practice of the season and do their best to swim a 50 free.  The season ends having made lots of new friends, hopefully a letter to put on a jacket, and possibly even a high school banner or a yearbook picture to fondly look back on.  But the truth is, high school swimming is hard.

1)      The coaches expect all swimmers to make as many practices as possible, meets as possible, swim near their best times, and be fully prepared for the state championships.  The reality is that most swimmers are exhausted from school, have to juggle their homework, club practices, and high school practices, meets are on a Tuesday afternoon, and the combination of club practices, club meets, and the lack of a good taper or technical suit makes best times next to impossible.  And while everyone wants to do their best at high school state, club swimmers may not be in the best shape as they focus on traditional big meets, still a month out.

2)      The coaches assume that all club swimmers can qualify for state in multiple events with ease.  But each high school swimmer is limited to two events per meet, and will probably only swim at four or five meets before the state championships.  The state cuts aren’t lightning fast, but they are not easy.  Besides, club swimmers often specialize in such events as the 200 breast, 200 fly, 400 IM, or the mile.  None of these events occur at the high school level.

3)      Coaches pick your events.  At least most of the time.  High school has rules about how many swimmers you can enter in the finals at the state championships.  So, if the coach thinks it makes more sense for you to swim the 500 free for points, instead of your favorite, the 100 fly, you do it.  It’s also possible that the coach will put a senior in your spot on the relay, keep you out of your best event, or simply never let you swim the 100 breast despite your seed time, their choice.

4)      At State, you only get one chance.  50 swimmers end up qualifying for your event, and you know all of them from your club meets.  Now you get one shot to make the top 16, top 8 if you want to make the A finals.  And all of the top 8 are on their way to big time colleges when their careers are over.  One bad swim, or bad start, and that’s it.

5)      The state championships are in February.  Since you were twelve you’ve been building up for important meets on the calendar.  An early winter meet in December, and a travel meet in late March.  Before high school, February was for long training practices, doubles, and 5am swims in the freezing cold.  And now your high school coach expects you to go a best time.

6)      Everything is different at high school meets.  You warm up less, cool down less, socialize a lot more.  Fans don’t know swim etiquette and yell out at the wrong times.  At some meets, you have to swim three events, including a relay, within minutes of each other.  At other meets, there could be diving, no qualification times, and ten minute 500 frees that make the meet last for days.

It's not a surprise that Missy Franklin won multiple State Championships at the high school level.  But it is surprising that she went a best time at them, more than once

Saving pennies

By Alan Tapley

Editor’s note:  Alan Tapley is the parent of two female swimmers, ages twelve and fourteen.  Over the past eight years he has been with them at hundreds of meets and practices.  He has had countless conversations with swimmers about what they would like the public to know about their pursuit of this grueling sport.

Nothing drains the pocket book like club swimming.  It’s a continuous fee followed by an ongoing expense.  Many families cut costs by volunteering time, forgoing travel meets, or buying used technical suits.  But the bills keep coming.  Monthly fees, torn suits, lessons, meet expenses, hotels, airfare, the list never ends.  Add a half second at a meaningless early November meet at your local pool and you can live with it.  Add a half second at a big travel meet that included hotel, airfare for two or more, a new technical suit, and rental car, and you feel terrible.  But as a swim dad that sees thousands go to the cost of my children swimming, I almost pulled off the impossible.  The perfect meet.  The event was Winter Junior Nationals, the location was College Station, Texas.  The home of Texas A&M.

Airfare – While nothing is free, my wife travels so often for business that our family had just enough miles to book a round trip ticket to Houston for my daughter and I, all paid for by points.  The plane trip from Houston to College Station would have cost a bit more, but it was suggested that to drive that distance, if you have the time, was just as convenient.  So technically, the whole flight was covered.

Car rental – The rental car was paid for by points as well.  I had to open up a gold card with the rental car company at no cost, then my wife was able to transfer her points to my account.  Sure, I had to pay for gas and there is always some kind of tax or fee as well, but basically it was free.  It wasn’t a Porsche, but it was still free.

Hotel – We lucked out on this one.  With only four members of the team going to Juniors, we weren’t obligated to pay for the hotel through our team and thus, could try to book it ourselves.  The team was nice enough to reserve a room for us, and it just happened to be the same hotel chain that my wife often stays at.  With a little convincing after a talk with the hotel manager, the room was paid for using hotel points.  And although my daughter never takes advantage of it, I think breakfast was included.

This all sounds pretty easy, but understand that most of this is based on pure luck and timing.  If our airline didn’t have flights to Houston, or we had used up any travel points at the last meet or vacation, we would have had to pay.  If the rental company wouldn’t let my wife transfer points to me, we would have had to pay.  If the hotel had to be a specific one, we would have had to pay.  Honestly, the stars were aligning.

Technical suit – Now, I have no idea whether a sponsor provides free stuff at large meets, or the team decides to outfit their own swimmers?  But we ended up with a free technical suit, swim bag, warm up suit, and warm up swim suit.  It wasn’t the most expensive technical suit, but it had comfort straps, came in black, and was the right size.  My daughter would have preferred the $450 version, but hey, free is free.  It was new, and let’s be realistic, she was only swimming two events and maybe a time trial.

Okay, look.  I know that we’ll fork out plenty in Entry Fees, Starbucks, lunches and dinners.  There’s usually a charge for coach’s expenses and time trials.  We’d stock up on bottled water, snacks for the meet, and energy drinks.  We’d buy a tank top, t shirt, and hoodie as souvenirs.  We’ll probably end up going to a movie on an off day, buying a pair of goggles when one snaps, and forget something important like Advil or shaving cream.  But after all the years of draining our bank account, I’m calling this meet basically a freebee.  And believe me, there’s a huge difference between enjoying the journey of a young swimmer when it doesn’t cost three grand

26 hours of swim

By Alan Tapley

Editor’s note:  Alan Tapley is the parent of two female swimmers, ages twelve and fourteen.  Over the past eight years he has been with them at hundreds of meets and practices.  He has had countless conversations with swimmers about what they would like the public to know about their pursuit of this grueling sport.

7:00p My daughter has returned from a day that included a high school swim practice in the morning, a long day of school, and an afternoon swim practice with her club team.  It’s cold and dark as the carpool drops her off at our door and she enters slowly, throws her wet swim bag by the closest, her school bag by the table, grabs a chocolate milk from the fridge in the garage, and asks what time dinner is ready.  I’m just thrilled that the car pool got her as everyone’s schedules are all over the place.

7:45p As our daughter goes upstairs to do homework and go to bed, my wife and I try to figure out who will take her to morning practice.  If it’s a high school practice it isn’t until 6:30a, but it’s a club practice, so it’s at 5:15a.  At least she has a ride to school from practice.

9:00p My wife said she’d drive in the morning, so I quickly make a lunch that can easily be grabbed and stuffed in a backpack at 4:55am.

4:30a The wife and daughter are up.  I assume the daughter has her lunch, her school bag, a swim bag with two suits and two towels in it, and maybe a cold muffin that I left on the table for her. 

4:55a I hear the coffee grinder go off, but minutes later I hear the garage door open and close.  The coffee maker beeps minutes later implying that the coffee is now ready.

6:30a I’ve had my coffee, but my wife is taking off again to get my daughter from practice to school with a stop at Starbucks on the way.  Carpool issues.

6:55a Change of plans.  They are coming home first before school, no Starbucks, and a request that I make breakfast for her.  Needs to be fast because they need to leave the house in 30 minutes. 

7:30a Wife drives daughter to school.  Fortunately, youngest daughter has a late start day and doesn’t need to leave until 9:00a.

3:30p Carpool picks up daughter from school and speeds to pool for 4p club practice.

4:00p Practice is difficult and lasts until 6p, is followed by half an hour of dryland.  To make things worse, most of the other swimmers got out early and skipped dryland due to their taper meet coming up.

6:00p After feeding youngest daughter some dinner, we load the car full of her swim gear and head to the pool for her practice.  She swims three days a week, same pool, different hours.

6:30p Dropped off one kid, picks up the other.  She’s tired and hungry, but there’s a spaghetti dinner that night for the team.  I ask where, and which team?

8:35p After returning to the spaghetti dinner and picking up one child, I return to the pool and pick up child number two. 

9:00p It’s dark and cold when we finally get home. Both daughters grab a chocolate milk, throw their swim bags near the closest, only one asks for more dinner, and my wife and I discuss who is driving to practice for tomorrow morning’s practice.  Tomorrow could be tough.  High School practice, class is over at 1:50p, physical therapy session at 3:00p, afternoon club practice at 4:00p, no, make that 5:00p.  Most of the team and our car pool is gone due to the travel meet, practice was changed.  Oh, and there’s a spaghetti dinner, high school this time if she’s going.  I quickly make a lunch that can be easily grabbed and stuffed in a backpack…. 

Five practices

By Alan Tapley

Editor’s note:  Alan Tapley is the parent of two female swimmers, ages twelve and fourteen.  Over the past eight years he has been with them at hundreds of meets and practices.  He has had countless conversations with swimmers about what they would like the public to know about their pursuit of this grueling sport.

As the high school swim season began and my daughter, now a Sophomore, handed in her registration papers, doctor’s physical, and Code of Conduct form, she sighed.  After all, she would still need to attend five practices before becoming eligible to swim at a meet, and that thought seemed daunting.  Wait, just five?  For the week, right?  No.  Five total practices for the entire high school swim season.  It is different state by state, and often a coach or high school changes the rules and asks swimmers to show up twice a week, or even every practice.  But in our state, the rule is that a swimmer must attend five practices before they are eligible to swim at a high school meet, and with an extremely large high school swim team and limited pool space, at my daughter’s school, just five practices are required.  So why the sigh?

School started back in August and included a back-to-school swim party as well as introducing the full- time pre-season swim and conditioning program.  But since the official season doesn’t begin until November 14^th, no practices would count towards the five.  But so what?  November 14^th to the end of the season in February is a ton of time. 

Actually, while the State Championships are in February, the coach really wants everyone eligible by the first major meet, the Coaches Invite, a prelims/finals high school meet against many of the state’s top swimmers on December 17^th.  Still, November 14^th to December 17^th, that’s a month plus to get five practices in.

November 14^th-20^th was a bit rough.  Remember that club swimmers are trying to juggle their daily practices, expectation of coaches, their next big meet, school and fatigue when trying to pick which high school practices to make.  The first day, November 14^th, was following a three day meet, no one was going to high school practice that day.  Day two was simply blown off, after all, there’s still plenty of time.  Day three was doubles at club practice.  Day four was club practice and a physical therapy session for a tired shoulder.  And the next two days were occupied by an invite only, Long Course Meter camp that included swimming Friday night, twice on Saturday, and once more on Sunday.

November 21^st -27^th was rough too.  Could barely move on day one thanks to the camp, and with the Thanksgiving schedule, high school practices were only available on day two and three.  And neither were going to work.  Attending high school practice would mean missing the club practice, and with a huge meet coming up, that wasn’t going to happen.

November 28^th – December 4^th.  First practice attended on Monday, November 28^th!  A morning practice with some high school girls, followed by a club practice that night.  Tuesday, another high school practice in the morning, followed by another club practice that night.  Wednesday, doubles at the club practice, no high school.  Thursday was another day of high school practice in the morning and a club swim at night, and technically, the start of the coach’s taper for Junior Nationals on December 7.  Friday, another high school morning practice but only because the club morning swim was canceled, but the night session wouldn’t be.  Four practices down, one more to go, and despite all the two-a-days, the shoulder is doing better.

December 5^th – 11^th.  Could have attended practice on Saturday, but the coach wanted the Junior National swimmers to attend a meet in the morning and just get a few token swims in.  Monday and Tuesday were available for high school swimming, but probably not a good idea to mess with a taper schedule.  Wednesday to Sunday would be a trip to Junior Nationals that included a flight to Houston, a drive to Texas A&M, three days of swimming and a late return flight.  Just need one practice, with one week to go.

December 12^th-December 16^th.  Timing is everything as it is the week of finals.  Exams in Spanish, Pre-Calc, Science, History, English, and a project due.  Club practice each day, and doubles on Wednesday.  On Friday morning, December 16^th, one day before the high school swim deadline, there is no school unless you are taking a make up exam, you decide to skip a 5am club practice, and you stroll into the rec center at 7am to finish off your last required practice.  Mission accomplished.

The things I've seen

By Alan Tapley

Editor’s note:  Alan Tapley is the parent of two female swimmers, ages twelve and fourteen.  Over the past eight years he has been with them at hundreds of meets and practices.  He has had countless conversations with swimmers about what they would like the public to know about their pursuit of this grueling sport.

It has been about seven years since my children starting swimming.  From swim lessons, to summer swim leagues, high school, and club team.  And for the most part, the meets are pretty routine.  A swimmer adds or drops a tenth or two, a couple of DQ’s, someone’s goggles come off, and six hours later we all go home.  But go to enough meets and you’ll witness a few things that stand out among the countless back and fourths.  Here are my top ten.

1)      I once witnessed a young swimmer dive into the pool in an energy filled relay race, only to be followed by a dog jumping in after them.  The dog was not on the heat sheet.

2)      In a long course meet with chaser starts, an older male swimmer in the fastest heat of the 100 fly caught a struggling young swimmer in the slowest heat of the previous race at about the flags.  The older swimmer then swam underneath the young swimmer without losing his pace, flipped turned off the wall, went underneath the boy a second time, and continued on to finish his race.

3)      One time, a swimmer dove in for the 100 fly in a long course pool, and as everyone hit the halfway mark and flipped turn, she simply got out of the pool.  She had had enough.

4)      In a summer league meet, a beginning swimmer jumped in the pool to swim the breaststroke, throwing his arms forward at the same time as he would kick his legs out.  So, for more than a minute of vigorous swimming, he had failed to move forward.

5)      Pleasing the crowd and teammates, but not the meet officials, I once saw a swimmer launch of the blocks for a 50 backstroke race, Long Course Meters, and simply stay underwater until he touched the wall on the other side.

6)      I once saw a three way tie, but to be honest, I think there was a problem with the timing system so they gave all three swimmers a tie to make sure they would advance to finals without more controversy.

7)      I’ve seen a swimmer do backstroke in a 200 free, and fly in a 50 free.

8)      One time a swimmer was late for the start of the race and he jumped in with a running start while the others were at the 15 meter mark.  He lost.

9)      I once saw a three man relay win a 4 x100.  Although to be fair, they only won because the third swimmer simply pressed the touch pad twice after his leg.

10)   In a summer league meet, a boy asked his mom if he could buy something at the concession stand before his swim.  Minutes later, the boy swam an awkward 25 free as he seemed to punch the water a little too much with his stroke.  When he got out of the pool, he reached his closed fist out to his mother, and gave her the change, still clinched in his right hand.

Okay, I wasn’t around to witness number ten on this list, but it’s a true story anyway

The Hoodie

By Alan Tapley

Editor’s note:  Alan Tapley is the parent of two female swimmers, ages twelve and fourteen.  Over the past eight years he has been with them at hundreds of meets and practices.  He has had countless conversations with swimmers about what they would like the public to know about their pursuit of this grueling sport.

The first year my children made the Summer Swim Championships was awfully exciting.  The venue was an old, indoor pool, and the teams would put up tents outside the facility for their swimmers and family to rest and hide from the heat of the sun.  We watched our kids swim, volunteered to time or work concessions, and of course, bought a clothing item of some sort to remember the event.  A pair of shorts, maybe a tank top, possibly a hooded sweatshirt.

A few years later, my then ten year old made her very first club State Championships.  One event, the 50 fly, a timed final, swimming unattached, and seeded 28^th out of 32 swimmers.  We cheered from way up high at the Colorado Air Force Academy pool as my daughter dropped a little time, finished 23^rd, we bought a shirt or sweater, and headed back home.

Over the next few years, the events started to add up, as did the cost.  Three meets in California, one in Arizona, one in Seattle, one in Hawaii, and two State Championships, every year, locally.  Each meet would mean airfare, hotel, rental cars, and entry fees.  Each meet would mean hundreds spent on restaurants, technical suits, and bottled water.  And each meet would be accompanied by the purchase of a hoodie with a logo to wear proudly soon after to remember the occasion.  We purchased a hoodie when my daughter made her first Sectional meet in Oregon.  She bought a bright orange University of Texas hoodie after her first big meet in Austin.  She purchased a very nice Arizona State hoodie after attending a swim camp one summer, despite the hundred degree plus temperatures. 

Last weekend we had just returned from Texas A&M for my daughter’s first Junior Nationals.  Five days in a hotel, two plane tickets, one rental car, and of course, a hoodie.

As a swim parent I believe that a swimmer should no longer have to actually attend the meet they qualify for in order to receive a t-shirt or hoodie from the meet in question.  Furthermore, I am petitioning that the swimmer also receive a bag tag to proudly display off their swim bag.  Think about it.  You make the Far Western Championships in Northern California?  Instead of five days of travel, missing work, missing school, air fare, hotel, and all of the rest, you pay $39.95 for a hoodie (with logo) and a bag tag.  Your kid wears it school, after all, they did qualify for the event, and you save thousands.  Make a sectional cut?  Order the t-shirt or hoodie and stay home.  And if other swim families complain that your swimmer received the hoodie to the State Championships they never attended, I guess we could add a small stitching, somewhere oblivious to most, that simply reads, qualifier.

My favorite race

By Alan Tapley

Editor’s note:  Alan Tapley is the parent of two female swimmers, ages twelve and fourteen.  Over the past eight years he has been with them at hundreds of meets and practices.  He has had countless conversations with swimmers about what they would like the public to know about their pursuit of this grueling sport.

The week before Junior Nationals, my daughter was asked to swim a few token races at a nearby meet in preparation for the following week’s main event.  I was told that swimming the week before a big meet was often commonplace.  Three swims, no taper, no shave, wear your technical suit, and scratch the finals if you make it.  The coach picked the three events and on that Saturday, we showed up a half an hour before warm ups, as usual.  Choosing three events would not be too difficult as there were only four to choose from, and the 400 IM was a little too hard on the body.  So, the 200 free, my daughter’s least favorite event would be chosen as event number one.

Every swimmer has a few events that they only swim once, maybe twice a season.  For my daughter, it’s the 200 free.  She wasn’t awful at it, but her specialty was back and fly, which in turn also meant that she would usually swim the IM’s as well.  On occasion, she’d swim the 50 and 100 free for time, but rarely the 200 free.  So, out of 40 swimmers, she was seeded about 20^th, but even if she made it in the top 16, it wouldn’t matter, because she was supposed to scratch finals.  The pressure was off.

Then, a few days before the meet she informed me that her coach wanted her to swim the 200 freestyle doing the backstroke to prepare for her major events at Junior Nationals.  I was confused, and asked if she was allowed to do that?  Sure, she replied.  It’s freestyle, so you can basically do what you want.  At first, I was a little nervous for her.  Would people know that this was planned, and not just think she’s swimming the wrong stroke?  Does she need to tell the other swimmers?  I’d hate for her to be a distraction.  If it’s a DQ, can she still swim her other two events?  I had questions.

But as the swimmers prepared for the race, I was as calm as could be.  With no pressure to make finals, and the excitement of turning your least favorite event into a fun exercise for you and the fans, this was awesome.  When people would ask why she was doing the backstroke, I could tell them that it was her coach’s idea, and that she was preparing for Junior Nationals.  Pass the blame, and brag about my kid in one quick sentence.

So, off they went.  My daughter dove off the blocks with the seven other girls, flipped onto her back, and backstroked the 200 free in a 2:04.  Her time ended up being a new personal best for the 200 free, even though she didn’t actually swim freestyle. We laughed afterward about her new best time, and I asked in all seriousness, “If you can swim a 2:04 like that on your back, without a taper, what could you actually swim the 200 free in if you swam it right, and really went for it?”  She looked at me, smiled, and replied, “About a 2:04, I suck at the 200 free.”

Creepy

By Alan Tapley

Editor’s note:  Alan Tapley is the parent of two female swimmers, ages twelve and fourteen.  Over the past eight years he has been with them at hundreds of meets and practices.  He has had countless conversations with swimmers about what they would like the public to know about their pursuit of this grueling sport.

When the kids were young our swim meets were filled with sun and laughter.  I’d show up with sunscreen, a few beverages, and at the end of most races, a dry towel and a hug.  A dad and his young girls.  I was applauded for being so involved, so present in the moment, and so affectionate to my kids.  But as the girls got older, well, to be honest, I felt kind of creepy.

The top five reasons that swim dads are creepy.

1)      We are constantly waiting outside of a girl’s locker room.  Young women are changing and showering and swim dads are the creepy guy that sits just a few yards from the locker room doors. 

2)      We are the guy who sits in his car in the high school parking lot as young teenagers stroll by. And the one who sits all alone in the parking lot near the pool or recreation center at 5am, most likely unshaven and unprofessional looking.

3)      We are the one that frequents all the swim meets as a fan, volunteer, or official as young teenage girls and boys wear immensely small and inappropriate bathing attire that covers way too little.  And we spend hour after hour there.

4)      We are the one that offers food and snacks to young children that aren’t ours.  It’s hardly a stranger offering candy, but it’s still an old guy offering a kid a granola bar or a chocolate milk.

5)      We are the guy who records and photographs wet kids with major wedgies.

Believe me.  It’s creepy.

The swim towels

By Alan Tapley

Editor’s note:  Alan Tapley is the parent of two female swimmers, ages twelve and fourteen.  Over the past eight years he has been with them at hundreds of meets and practices.  He has had countless conversations with swimmers about what they would like the public to know about their pursuit of this grueling sport.

It was the summer of 2009, and the family was in for a big surprise.  Grandpa George would be turning 70 years old and had decided to send the entire family to Hawaii to celebrate the occasion.  We snorkeled, toured volcanoes, went to a Luau, and soaked in the sun.  Grandpa went full out for this trip.  He rented a lovely house by the ocean, paid for our travel, our rental cars, and even went to the local store nearby to load up on cheap beach towels and sunscreen.  For almost a week, we laughed and played until finally it was time to go home.  While packing our suitcases, Grandma wanted to know if anyone wanted to claim the four cheap Hawaiian towels, each one tackier than the next.  There were no takers until I finally agreed to take them.  After all, I had room in my suitcase, and my two kids, then six and eight, were young swimmers.  And swimmers could always use extra towels.

The towels had taken a beating in Hawaii as the kids played by the pool and tumbled on the beach.  They must have survived at least a half a dozen trips to the laundry as the sun lotion and beach sand blanketed them.  They were discount specials, at most $7.99 each, but they were perfect for the summer swim season.  So thin that you could stuff three into a swim bag without issue.  So cheap that if your kid lost one, you most likely wouldn’t go back to try and find it.  They were perfect.

Surprisingly, the towels would survive the next two years of summer swimming without much damage.  Sure, the colors were fading and the material was thinning, but meet after meet they would make it back home, all but one, lost among the carnage of summer.  After all, they were hard to miss.  The blue one with the surfer, the pink one with the palm tree, the orange one with the sunset, all with the word Hawaii plastered from corner to corner.

In 2012, the towels worked both the summer and club circuit without missing a beat.  A perfect complement to a big new towel, or a swim parka, the towels easily fit in suitcases for travel meets, survived three day meets in distant hotels, and were there for one day summer meets, quickly drying in the sun.  Practice after practice, meet after meet, for years.

In 2014, my daughter made the finals of the State Championships as a twelve year old.  And as the swimmers paraded out to the blocks in their swim parkas to loud music and the cheers from the crowd, my daughter was wrapped in a faded pink Hawaiian towel.  Following that event, I made sure we brought the thick, team logo towel, along with the faded Hawaiian bunch, just in case she made finals again.

Last weekend, that same twelve year old was now almost fifteen and attending her first Winter Junior National Championships.  I sat in the stands looking for her among the hundreds of swimmers, each looking identical with their technical suits, swim caps, and long, lean frames.  Then I spotted her, just getting out of the warm up pool, wrapped in a faded blue Hawaiian towel.

What type of swim parent are you?

Editor’s note:  Alan Tapley is the parent of two female swimmers, ages twelve and fourteen.  Over the past eight years he has been with them at hundreds of meets and practices.  He has had countless conversations with swimmers about what they would like the public to know about their pursuit of this grueling sport.

The Tiger Parent.  Your world is your young swimmer, and the only thing that matters is making sure that everything is as it needs to be for their ultimate success.  When your swimmer is on deck you are fixing the hood on their swim parka to keep them warm, forcing them to eat a nutritional bar for energy, and holding their water bottle making sure they stay hydrated.  When they race, you’re the loudest in the building, know all their best times, you videotape every swim, and you stand directly in front of the sign that says, “please don’t stand here.”   Making friends is optional, which is good, because you are often misunderstood.  The other parents think you complain a little too much, email the coach a little too often, and volunteer for a seat on the board with your own agenda in mind, all for the ultimate success of your kid.  And the Tiger Parent doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with that.

The Passive Aggressive Tiger Parent.  Your world is your young swimmer as well, but you can’t stand being labeled a Tiger Parent, so you pretend not to care as you casually get the splits of your kid’s swim race.  You volunteer to time lane six, so you can make sure to talk to your kid before their big race.  You stuff their swim bag with water, nutritional bars, and their swim parka, but then talk to parents most of the time while hoping your kid is self-sufficient.  You prefer choosing the events for your kid, but you rarely yell, and you never videotape.  Despite acting indifferent, if your kid were to ever need to replace a torn swim cap, some broken goggles, or know which heat they were in, you magically appear in plenty of time.

The Busy Parent.  Every practice or meet they are on their laptop, or their cell phone.  Or maybe it’s the parent with the energetic toddler as well as their older, swimming sibling.  They are there to provide support, but mostly to provide transportation.  Their swimmer is independent because they need to be.  The parent does their best to catch a race or two, but usually misses it as they don’t even bother to buy a program.  Which is fine, because they know very little about the sport anyway.  They’re too busy to volunteer, or socialize.  Others judge them a bit for not volunteering more, or socializing more, but they aren’t resentful.  After all, their swimmer kid poses no threat, and they’re not avoiding responsibility. They just prioritize differently.

The Mother Hen.  Every team has one.  This parent volunteers at every meet, not only taking their shift, but probably filling in for someone else when needed as well.  She highlights all the swimmers on the team from the program, cheers for them all, and probably records their times in pen.  The fundraisers are at her house, were her idea, and she provided food and drink just because.  The Mother Hen probably has had multiple swimmers on the team over the years, all talented, a reason for such a strong commitment.  She drives more than her needed share in the carpool, smiles and laughs throughout most of the meet, and makes most of the other parents look bad as we pretend not to hear the announcement for more meet volunteers, as the Mother Hen heads to the pool deck to help out.

The Clueless.  The busy parent simply doesn’t have time to get involved. The clueless parent just stays out of it by choice.  They drop their kids off at practice and meets, but don’t stick around to watch or socialize.  They don’t know the rules, they don’t know the volunteer job, and they support their swimmer from afar.  They seem happy to pay the swim fees and are glad their swimmer is staying in shape and socializing with friends, but it ends there.  Usually, their swimmer is just hoping to make high school state someday.  A nice goal, and it keeps the clueless parent from having to deal with big travel meets, hotels, or college swim plans.  While the other swim parents hold grudges when one doesn’t do their share, this doesn’t apply to the clueless parent, because they never expected that parent to show in the first place.

The Pro.  The parent of a senior swimmer, they have seen and done it all.  They know every job, have been to every meet, and spent years on the board.  Now their swimmer is older, drives themselves to practice and meets, and you only see that parent at the occasional big meet or once a season team picnic.  They will step in if needed, but they generally get a free pass.  And they’ve earned it.

GONE TOO FAR

Editor’s note:  Alan Tapley is the parent of two female swimmers, ages twelve and fourteen.  Over the past eight years he has been with them at hundreds of meets and practices.  He has had countless conversations with swimmers about what they would like the public to know about their pursuit of this grueling sport.

1)      Despite the thousands of dollars you have already spent on your young swimmer, you are still willing to suggest that your 12 year old take Pilates, hire a Personal Trainer, or even get the occasional massage in order to improve their overall performance.

2)      While technically not calling it a “self-taper,” you conveniently have your young swimmer miss practice the day before a big meet using a lame excuse such as they had a 7pm dentist appointment.

3)      Your nine year old swimmer grows a half an inch according to the bedroom wall growth chart, and you project them to automatically be 6’4 with a 7’0 wingspan. 

4)      You look up the timeline not to know when your kid is swimming, but to let him/her know how much time they have in between events to eat, rest, and prepare for the next swim.

5)      You look up the results of a local meet to see how everyone performed, though your kid’s team wasn’t even in attendance.

6)      You not only can recognize every name in the top ten on the latest Psych Sheet. You can also name what team they’re on.  And you probably have a general idea of when they age up.

7)      Your house feels empty without a swim bag on the floor, dirty towels in the laundry room, and wet bathing suits hanging in the bathroom.

8)      Your car forever smells of sweat, chlorine, and stale chocolate milk.

9)      You’re in multiple carpools, and yet it’s always your day to drive.

10)   You are hoping that your kid gets a swim scholarship, just so you can break even.

Twenty Things

Editor’s note:  Alan Tapley is the parent of two female swimmers, ages twelve and fourteen.  Over the past eight years he has been with them at hundreds of meets and practices.  He has had countless conversations with swimmers about what they would like the public to know about their pursuit of this grueling sport.

1)      Yes, we want to go to the Olympics someday.  Yes, we know that the odds are a million to one.  But swimmers are goal oriented.

2)      At big meets we wear a special suit called a technical suit that is five sizes too small, cost over $300, and lasts for only two or three meets if it doesn’t tear.

3)      We will wear that $300 suit, travel to a fast pool in a different state, shave our body hair, and sleep in hotel lobbies all for the opportunity to drop a tenth of a second.

4)      Yes, we can basically eat anything we want.  And you could too if you worked out six days a week, two hours each, for eleven straight months.

5)      Two or three times a week we jump in the pool at 5am, go to class all day, then return to the pool for another workout that evening.  And yes, it is as bad as it sounds.

6)      We believe that naps are the greatest things ever invented, followed closely by the taper.

7)      We actually prefer a pool that’s a little too cold rather than a pool that’s too warm.

8)      Most of us prefer short course to long because it’s 10% shorter, but the fact that long course is in the summertime, and we can nap, makes it pretty close.

9)      Basically, only two individuals in each event make the Olympics.  The odds of making the Olympic swim team are .00014% and that doesn’t even take into consideration whether Missy Franklin, Katie Ledecky or Michael Phelps swims your event.

10)   In swimming, half a second is a lot.

11)   We feel immensely guilty if we miss a practice, but if it’s canceled that’s another story.

12)   We are a little self-conscious about how our shoulders and thighs look, but not our abs. They rock.

13)   Swimming six days a week sometimes leads to injuries.  When that occurs, the coach throws you a kick board and puts you in another lane until you get better.  But you still show up six days a week.

14)    We all have more than one technical suit, plenty of practice suits, and tons of swim caps.  But that’s nothing compared to the amount of swim related t-shirts we’ve collected over the years.

15)   Our strong build and abdominal muscles make up for our green hair and dry skin.

16)   If you haven’t torn a suit, broken your swim goggles, or ripped a swim cap just seconds before your race, you haven’t been swimming long enough.

17)   We get a break when the short course season turns into long course season….if it falls on a Sunday.

18)   Prelims/Finals meets are really fun.  You eat, swim, eat, nap, eat, swim, eat, and then sleep…for three straight days.