Don't forget to feed the fish...

Simple, really.  A bottle of Gatorade, a granola bar, maybe some oranges or something.  Surely he won't need more than that-he's going to be too busy swimming to eat. 

Yeah, right.

First of all, swim meets can last anywhere from four to eight hours (even longer-I've been told-if we did long course meets).  Between staging and the event itself, your swimmer is busy for maybe ten to fifteen minutes; with at least thirty minutes in between events to rest up.  It is this time, having spent all of their energy giving all that they had to win their heat/event, that the hungries hit. 

"Mom, I'm starving!  Did you bring any food?" 

As the contents of your neatly-packed beach bag are spilled onto the grass, he is foraging like a bear in the woods. Unless you are prepared, you and that new pack of Five gum may soon be departed.  And forget it if you think that he didn't already eat all of your Wint-O-Mint Lifesavers.  Oh, yes, food and swimming are as related to eachother as peanut butter and jelly.  You can't have one without the other.

So, after my brush with the swimming, foraging bear that I now proudly claim as my son, I have learned that you can never bring enough food to a meet.  Many times I have slogged across the parking lot of the pool with a ten-pound ice chest packed to lid full of stuff.  Maybe he'd eat one or two things, maybe he'd eat a whole cantaloupe, but I vowed never again to be left without some sustenance for my fish.  I've also learned a while back that mastering the strokes was only one part of the swimming equation. The other was the type of fuel consumed before, during and after the meets.

He is very diciplined, as far as 11 year-olds go.  No soda or junk food at least the day before the meet.  Pre-meet dinner is usually spaghetti with ground turkey, with the occasional garlic bread.  Breakfast is required and is usually a fruit and yogurt smoothie; nothing heavy.  During the meet, we have found that a good variety of fruit with high water content seems to be the best bet, though we round it out with cheese and/or crackers.  And as of late, Gatorade's G1 and G2 have become a staple as well.  G1 just before the meet starts and G2 during.  Oh, and lest I forget the seeds.  We currently are toting around four flavors of seeds: Black Pepper, Jalepeno, Dill, and Chili Lime.  Those are essential.

As Devin breathes over my shoulder while I write this, he wants me to mention his biggest pet peeve when it comes to the type of food that swimmers eat.  Sure, nothing could be more delicious than a freshly-baked cake donut with a thick dip of fudgy frosting on the top.  Add sprinkles and it would be as palatable as a steak to a carnivore.  But when that donut is a swimmer's meal of choice before an important meet, let me tell you, Devin's blood comes to a rolling boil in seconds.  He usually catches my eye, gives me an eyebrow waggle and a knowing grind of his teeth, then just shakes his head.  I always tell him to lead by example but when he takes this sport so darn seriously, it just doesn't sit well with him to see the sabotage.

So, as you enjoy the thrill of cheering the loudest, your swimmer pulling ahead of the competition to win first, please...don't forget to feed your fish.

  

In the beginning...

It was the summer of 2007, the sharp scent of chlorine wafting through the early morning air. With the sun a shimmering reflection on the clear blue pool, it was the start of our very first meet. I am the first to admit, I had no idea what to expect. What did IM mean? Was our pool meters or yards? Why did it matter what heat he was in? But as I stood at the edge of the pool, staring at the line of boys crouched into position (taking their mark, as I learned later), there was my fish. Clad in Jammers, swim cap and goggles, a sort of seriousness washed over his innocent little face.

Game on.

He will be the first to tell you that he had no clue what to do. All he knew was what the coach told him to do: swim! His first meet he took a decent place in his heats but collected more sevenths and eighths when all was said and done. And he was glad to have finished at all. However, those little ribbons compared to the shiny medals slung around the other kids' necks was defeating. He wanted to be just like those kids. He wanted more.

As the meets progressed, so did Devin. Practice, practice, practice. His coordination between arms and legs, body and mind, it all started coming together. It was at the last meet, our Colorado River Finals, that I knew we were lifers of the sport. Dripping wet, panting as though he just swam for his life, there was something about his smile; satisfied, dare I say, happy? What kind of mom would I be if I didn't want to keep him in something that made his whole being light up? Yep, we were hooked.

So now, as we prepare for another season of heart-stopping action, I remind myself that it was all my fault. :)