It’s early afternoon, which wouldn’t really be noteworthy but for the fact that my brain finally agrees that it’s early afternoon. I keep waking up at 4:30, but I can always fall back asleep again, so it’s nonfatal. The team met again today at one of the public pools, and I’m starting to feel like myself again in the water as well. Which is nice. If memory serves, here’s my schedule of individual events:

  • Sunday: 200 Free, 200 IM
  • Monday: 400 IM
  • Tuesday: 100 Breast
  • Wednesday: 200 Breast

My big focus is on the IM events, especially the 400, which is a ridiculous “overachiever’s race” if ever there was one. A hundred meters each of fly, back, breast, and free, in that order. (The secret is to do whatever it takes to survive the butterfly portion, and not to go blasting out of the gates. You save your strength for the last half.) My goals for these races? For me, these Games are not really about winning medals. It would be nice, of course, and I’ll be swimming my hardest—but given that my age division is wildly competitive and full of guys who were, like, college all-stars back in the day, it’s not all that realistic. All I really wanna do is to beat my seed times. Every time I achieve that, I’ll have set a new personal record. I think I can do it, too, at least once or twice. And frankly, if all I manage is to set a new PR in the 400, I’ll be happy. I’ll be doing some relays as well, but I don’t remember which ones or when they are. I suppose I should write all that stuff down.
Weather today is sunny and breezy and gorgeous. Tonight we go to a cocktail party introducing a new g&l athletic foundation, founded by one of our swimmers and his partner of 45 years (!). It’s at the cricket club, which is apparently a rather swank place. Should be fun. Afterwards the coaches are peeling off for a “hurray, we got everyone here without killing anybody” dinner. There’s talk of going to the beach tomorrow prior to the opening ceremonies. The ceremonies should be fun—inspiring, empowering, exciting, yadda yadda yadda. And k.d. lang is performing, which is frankly reason enough to go. I’ll provide a report when I can.
Yesterday afternoon we climbed to the top of the Sydney Harbor Bridge. 700 or so stairs to the spectacular view at the summit. Taking in the view from the top, Karen James and I decided that everything built after 1930 in this town is ugly as sin. Truly, the old Victorian-era stuff is all lovely, but the newer stuff is hideous. The business district looks like it was all put up in 1973. The million-dollar apartments now being built on the old wharf just west of the bridge look like a Holiday Inn circa 1967. Blergh. Prince Charles must be apoplectic when he visits.
Nobody has posted thus far to the team’s blog, but you know what? I don’t care. My responsibility as TNYA Webmaster was to get the technology working—not to force people to use it. So there. I have better things to get obsessive about at this point.
Hi, Paul. I was thinking about you at lunchtime. Hope you’re well.
More later.