Hey everyone. 
 
Things are happening at warp speed right now.  I'll write about it in a future post but I thought I'd share my thoughts on the race today and then tell you about the craziness since the race in a couple of days.
 
Race Analysis:
 
I haven’t seen a replay of the race on television but I’ll do my best to recount what I thought happened.
 
The story of the day starts about 5 minutes before the announcer said, “Take your mark."  Unfortunately, athlete family members and other 10k swimming fans were relegated to seating areas far from the start location and so the 25 athletes stood on the waters edge waiting to get introduced to the members of the media.  The excitement of being announced to an Olympic crowd was thus diminished greatly but we were all preoccupied with the task at hand.  That task was not the upcoming race, but rather the need to relive ourselves of a full morning of hydration.

Prior to the introductions the athletes had been sequestered in a ready room, then herded to the starting location, and then told to stand at attention in front of the cameras in the media section.  The whole process took about 20 minutes and by the time the athletes were finally introduced the only thing we really wanted to do was find the restroom, which of course was not an option.  Thus, there was quite a bit of eagerness to get into the water as quickly as possible.   At the beginning of the historic race, levity triumphed over tension at the starting dock.
 
Nothing of significance happened in the first lap of the race and all I really remember was trying to establish a good drafting position, which I believe I did.  The race was physical from the start with a lot of jostling for position within the pack for the entire first lap.  At the start of the second lap I was the unfortunate recipient of an elbow to my shoulder blade that, now 2 days later, still hurts.  I don’t know who it was that got me, but I must have made an aggressive retaliation move because I was given a Yellow Card a few moments later.  The race official blew his whistle at me, held up a yellow flag and produced a board with #18, my number, written on it.  I was a bit confused about what I had done to get a Yellow Card, but there really isn’t any time to get an explanation from the official.  The only thing you can really do is adjust your race strategy accordingly, knowing that a second infraction will result in a disqualification from the race.

At first I didn’t think that the Yellow Card would really affect my race strategy.  Every 10K swimmer believes that he swims a docile race, but the reality is that there are times when the situation demands that you get a bit physical.  A Yellow Card makes the athlete more apprehensive at the critical moments, and there was one critical moment where I had to back down when I normally would have stood firm.
 
Going into a turn on the third lap, the Russian and I were battling for position.  25 meters until the turn buoy we were side by side. I had an inside position (technically the better position) but the Russian was making it clear that he was going to try and angle me inside the course.  His goal was to try and slam me into the buoy instead of going around it cleanly. I knew what he was trying to do and, under normal circumstances without a Yellow Card, I would have held my position.  However, holding position would have required a lot of physical contact, and I didn’t want to draw the attention of the race officials.  So, I backed down, lost my position, and had to try and scramble to get back into the thick of the pack. 

(I realize that the previous paragraph was gibberish to a lot of you, but it was necessary for me to explain it to the 10K swimming enthusiasts.) 

Up until I got cut off at the buoy on the 3rd lap I was in the hunt, or so I thought.  The upside of my position was that I was drafting really well, but the big downside of my position was that I was taking a physical beating.  In retrospect I should have abandoned the desire to draft in favor of getting clean water, but I didn’t know this at the time.

At the start of the 4th lap the pace picked up tremendously, and this is when I knew that I was in trouble.  My heart rate shot up, my technique started to flag, and my mind lost a bit of coherency.  This isn’t abnormal to 10K races, in fact it happens every time, but in good races I can usually keep my composure at least until the 9,000 meter mark.  I fought like crazy from the 7,500 to the 9,500 to stay in the race but I kept getting tangled with the Dutchman (the eventual winner) the Russian (previous world champion) and a whole bunch of other swimmers.

At around the 9,200 I saw the red flag go up right next to me and for a split second I was worried that I was going to be kicked out of the race.  It turned out that the race officials gave a Red Card to the Russian world champion Vladimir Dyachin for his physical contact on me but I wasn’t carded for similar contact.  I don’t know why he was carded and I wasn’t, but I do know that the physical contact took its toll on me because with 800 meters to go – when I needed to make a surge to the front – I didn’t have the energy.
 
I scrapped my way through the last very painful 800 meters, and the closer I got the more it became apparent that I wasn’t going to win a medal.  I won a small battle by out-touching a few of the other competitors at the finish line, but my 8th place finish was about 20 seconds behind the winner.  I put my hand on the touchpad 1 hour 52 minutes and 13 seconds after the start of the race.

The winner of the race, Martin Vander Weijden from the Netherlands, is a great guy.  It would have been unfortunate for the sport of Open Water swimming if the Russian (who was the odds on favorite to win the race) had won.  He doesn’t speak English and he isn’t friendly at all.  Martin, on the other hand, is without a doubt the most popular guy in the sport.  He’s funny, very well-spoken, and he has a great story before he became the Olympic champion.
 
Here’s a good story.  This past May Martin and I raced to a photo finish in the 25K in Seville.  (He beat me by 4 tenths of a second in a 5 hour race.)  At the 20,000 meter mark of the race Martin and I happened to be next to each other and breathing towards each other.  We made eye contact through our goggles and Martin smiled at me.  It was a really funny gesture considering the circumstance of our location.
 
Now, fast forward to the race here in Beijing.  Just before the pace picked up at the 7,500 meter mark I happened to be next to Martin when the guy did the same thing.  It was only a split second of a grin this time, but it was noticeable, and it made me shake my head and laugh a little.  That moment, just before the pain really increased, was one of the highlights of the race. 

Looking back on it now I feel good about my race experience.  No I didn’t win a medal, but I was in the race the entire time and I gave it my best effort.  To wrap up the race analysis I thought I’d share the Olympic Creed: The most important thing in the Olympic Games is not to win but to take part, just as in life the most important thing is not the triumph but the struggle,.  The essential thing is not to have conquered, but to have fought well. 
 
I have a lot more to write about but I'm working on some frayed emotions.  Here's the teaser: I was at the police station in Beijing 3 hours after my race worried that Diana might get deported.  Everything's fine now but it'll make for a good story once I sit down to write it.

mdw

This is my last post until after my race.  I’ll have a lot to write about on the 22nd and I’m looking forward to sharing my experience over the next couple of days with all of you.
 
The race is at 9 am local time on the 21st.  I’ve told most people that this means 6 pm Pacific on the 20th, but there’s no telling when NBC is going to air the race.  There’s a guarantee that NBC will not show the entire race and it’s likely that you’ll get to see 5 minutes here or there throughout the night (it may also be on MSNBC or USA or another channel so check the local listings).  If you want to ensure that you are watching the race LIVE then you’ll have to go to nbcolympics.com and watch it on the internet. 
 
 The posts over the past month have covered a number of topics but I left out matter that is important for me to share and may be interesting for you to read.  It’s a testament of faith in relation to anxiety before big swimming races. 

One of the great dangers of a successful athlete sharing his faith is the backlash reaction of an occasionally hostile audience who may think that I believe that God took my side in the competition.  I don’t believe that, but I do believe that God gave me peace when I asked for it.  Here’s the story:

Back when I was a pool swimmer I would get very anxious before big races.  Behind the blocks I told myself that I had spent so much time swimming and I had made so many sacrifices that if I didn’t do well in the race those sacrifices would have been wasted.  I would stand up on the blocks and my heart would be beating out of my chest.  My muscles would tighten and my confidence would sink.  I was paralyzed by anxiety in the moment, so much so that I couldn’t perform when the gun went off.
 
About a year ago, before the USA Olympic Trials in Fort Myers, I realized that I needed to confront my anxiety instead of hoping that it wouldn’t surface at the last moment.  I offered up a simple prayer of thanksgiving, and asked the Lord to give me peace of mind in those horrible moments before the race.  And, that’s exactly what happened - I wasn’t anxious at any point before or during the race.

That moment in Fort Myers stuck with me when I went back into training for the World Championships, but I didn’t really put all of the pieces together.  I knew that I had taken a major step in my faith, but the larger picture of what it all meant was still a bit hazy.  Then, as the race in Seville approached, I came across a song that I really enjoyed - Mat Kearney’s “Undeniable.” 

On the day of the 10K, the race that would determine the Olympics, I looked at the race course and said to myself “by lunchtime….you’ll know.”  I put on my Ipod and found “Undeniable” on the list.  I stood there listening to the song and the words of the chorus jumped out at me:
 
(chorus) 
It’s undeniable how brilliant You are
In an unreliable world You shine like a star
It’s unforgettable now that we’ve come this far
It’s unmistakable that You’re undeniable.
 
The line that got me most was “It’s unforgettable now that we’ve come this far.”  I stood there just a few feet from the water and it dawned on me that my long journey was a deliberate path to realize something that day: The highs of my career (1999 World University Games) had been necessary to make the lows (everything from 2000 to 2006) even greater.  The lows were necessary to make me realize that the highs were fleeting and that joy in life doesn’t come from winning or losing.  The joy of winning is temporal, the joy of the Lord is everlasting.  Not only did I have peace in the moment in Seville, but I experienced an incredible amount of joy before and during the race.  (At least until the pain got to me). 

In the year leading up to the race I did make the request to God to give me the strength to do my best performance, but the realization of peace and joy before the race is the testimony.  I had always been such a nervous wreck in my career, but at the most nerve-packed moments I’ve ever been apart of, I had complete peace. 

I believe that God is looking over all of us right now.  I don’t know why one person makes the Olympics and another doesn’t but I do know that whatever happens in the 10K here in Beijing I’ll be at peace.  If I am successful or not I will leave the race knowing that God was with me on the journey that got me here and he’ll continue to be with me long after Beijing.

My testimony is my own, so it’s probably not going to help you a lot if you’ve got anxiety issues.  Aside from reading the Bible, which from my own experience can be incredibly difficult to follow at times, a good resource is ITunes sermons.  (You get the benefit of the information without all the heavy lifting).  The sermon that really helped clear up a lot of my issues was “The Umpire of Peace” from 10-22-06 at Reality Carpentaria. 

mdv

It’s Friday night in Beijing and we’re less than a week away from race day (Thursday morning the 21st).  My wife Diana, accompanied by my brother Paul and sister-in-law Anna, will be departing LAX on a red eye very early Saturday.  My parents, with my sister Kara, lifelong family friend Dave Thoreson and my coach Gregg Wilson will be leaving out of SFO later in the same day.  

There’ve been quite a few significant moments in my Olympic experience thus far, but they’ve been enjoyed without those that I hold most dear.  I’m ready to share the remainder of the experience with the people that have made tons of sacrifices in their personal lives to make this Olympic dream possible. 

Significant among those making sacrifices is my wife Diana who, amongst other things, orchestrates the daily happenings of our lives with sensitive care to my swimming schedule.  If you don’t know a dedicated swimmer I’ll inform you of a little insider information right now - living with one can be very demanding.  An unassuming bride 5 years ago, Diana married me and got my lifestyle, and she’s done it all with a beautiful smile.

Also, my parents, who have been tremendously supportive over the years.  My mom was so nervous in both Fort Myers and Seville that she couldn’t watch either race.  That may sound silly at first, but it’s completely understandable when you remember that between my dad’s decathlon career and my swimming career she had to endure 6 Olympic Trials of heartbreak before experiencing the other side. 

Now, before I get all weepy, lets move on to the main event.
 
10K pre-race analysis.  I’m currently ranked 7th in the world.
 
First, the good news. 
 
My learning curve over the past year has been enormous, and in terms of tactics and strategy I don’t think anyone has an advantage over me.

The water is going to be a very hot 84 degrees, which plays to my advantage.  I’ve never worn a full body suit, but many of the swimmers in the race have grown accustomed to the full body suit and those swimmers will have to make the choice: go with the full body suit they usually race in, or go with a smaller suit that won’t make them overheat.  Body temperature is going to play a huge part in the race.
 
Now, the bad news.  Everyone else is really fast and it’s going to take the swim of my life to win a medal.  Here are the significant contenders that I’m going to have to take down.
 
1. Vladimir Dyachin is brilliant and fast.  He’s the Russian World Champion and he will swim a nearly perfect race. 

2. David Davies, from Great Britain, got second at the World Championships, he’s very fast and his learning curve is about a great as mine. 

3. Thomas Lurz, from Germany, is also highly intelligent and also very fast.  The guy is legitimate. 
 
Now for the news that is neither good nor bad.
 
Everyone in the top 10 is pretty much equally fit, so that’s a draw.  The variables of the Olympics could determine everything: who ate what in the week before the race, who stayed focused in training, and who will get nervous before the race.  And, significantly, who will make a mistake in the race.  There’s always mistakes made in a race, it could be any of us, and there’s no way to tell who is going to be kicking themselves afterwards. 
 
This is the second to last post until after the race.

mdv

Today, political commentator Hugh Hewitt turned sporty by recommending Mark's blog at usopenwaterswimming.org. Click the link below to open the audio excerpt.
Hewitt Recommends Warkentin

First things first: 10K swimming. 
 
The prep for my race is going well.  I did a pulling set yesterday:
1000 went 10:49
10 seconds rest
2000 went 21:15
20 seconds rest
3000 went 31:14 (last 1500 was a 15:32)
Other than that there isn’t much to report.  I’ll give you a pre-10k race analysis in a few days, but at this point it’s simply maintenance work until the 21st.
 
If you’ve been watching swimming on NBC here’s my take from the venue itself.  The saddest part so far is that we’ve been so spoiled by Michael Phelps breaking World Records that we have become desensitized to a certain extent.  Don’t get me wrong, we all cheer like crazy in the stands, but there’s always a feeling that the World Record time make sense, when in reality it makes no sense at all.  It’s stupid how fast that guy swims.  Today I saw him race the 200 Freestyle, a race that I used to consider my best event, in a time that is totally obnoxious, and the reaction in the team section was “That’s a fast swim.”  We’ve grown so accustomed to watching it that we start to take it for granted.

And here’s the part that proves the point - Phelps’ individual performances aren’t even the highlight of the meet.  The swim of the Olympics thus far was obviously the 4x100 Free Relay.  Jason Lezak just put himself in a very special place historically.  It’s a race that will go down in swimming lore as one of, if not THE greatest race of all-time.  The USA National Team, watching from the stands, reacted the way that Oprah Winfrey audience typically act when Oprah starts giving things away.  It was, by far, the most excited I’ve ever been as a spectator of anything.
 
Changing gears now, I want to give you the background story to the NBC piece that you’ll see sometime in the next week.
 
The day after the Opening Ceremonies I was contacted by the same NBC producer that organized the “Mark Warkentin: Avocado Farmer” story.  He wanted to film another story, this time with me doing something that is native to China.  The original idea was to take me to get a Chinese massage.  I liked this idea, but for some reason Mark Schubert (National Team Coach) did not share my enthusiasm, so NBC came up with a different idea – teach me how to do Tai Chi.  And that’s what happened. 

The next day I met the NBC television crew who were accompanied by a Tai Chi master, and we went of in search of a suitable place to do Tai Chi.  We eventually came upon a grassy field with bamboo in the background and the Tai Chi master started demonstrating the moves of skill.  He demonstrated the skill in slow-motion, all very elegantly, and it only took a few minutes to realize my preconceived fear that I was going to look very stupid when I tried the same moves. 

Here’s where things got crazy.  After about 10 minutes the guy was done showing me the general idea of Tai Chi, and I took my position about 4 feet behind him with the plan of shadowing his moves.  The Tai Chi master had a different plan.  He wanted to demonstrate the moves ON ME.  He came up close to me, grabbed me by the arm, did something fast and crazy and I was on the ground.  The scene was straight out of a movie: a Neanderthal bad guy (in this case me) gets dropped by the older, shorter Asian guy that is faster and smarter than anyone else alive. 

I got up, brushed off the grass from my shirt, and prepared for whatever was going to happen next, which turned out to be him taking me down again.  This time he wanted to SHOW me how he was going to take me down.  There was a lot of Chinese grunting that I think I was supposed to understand, which I didn’t, and then a few seconds later I was on the ground again.  This scenario repeated itself about 10 times before the NBC people decided that it was time to stop the contest.  I think the NBC producer was anticipating non-combat Tai Chi lessons rather than full contact Tai Chi so he told the guy to stop the beating and to teach me something that didn’t involve me ending up on the ground. 
           
So, I took a shadow position behind the Tai Chi master and started to mimic his moves for the NBC camera.  Unfortunately, we didn’t get very far into the lesson.  The guy was a perfectionist and he kept stopping the demonstration to scold me for incorrect technique.  He would scold me every 5 to 7 seconds for incorrect form such as not having my fingers relaxed enough.  At one point the guy stopped trying to teach me proper form and went to have a word with the interpreter.  I didn’t know what was happening, but a few moments later the interpreter came over to me and told me that the Tai Chi master was upset that I wasn’t learning Tai Chi fast enough.  He told me, and I am not making this up, that I should “try harder.”

I realized that I had offended the guy so I told the interpreter to relay the message that I was an idiot and that my inability to learn Tai Chi was no reflection on his teaching.  He liked hearing this and we were much better friends for the rest of the day. 

The attached picture tells the story.

I don’t know when the piece is going to air on NBC, but I was told that it would probably be shown nationally.           

 I'll be on the Hugh Hewitt show on Tuesday at 3:20 pacific.

mdw

I had a better conversation with the President this morning than I did at the opening ceremonies.  The USA swim team met him in a hallway at the swimming pool.  Here's my conversation, amidst about 50 reporters and a bunch of other people:
 
Me: Mr. President did you get to go to church this morning?

President:  Yes, I did. I know some people at Dallas Theological Seminary that sent some missionaries out here and I spent some time with them at their gathering.

Me: Mr. President, my grandmother was a missionary, and my dad was born on the mission field of India.

(At this point the President stopped multi-tasking.  He directed all his attention at me, reached out, shook my hand again and leaned in closer)

President: Glad to hear it.

Me: Mr. President It's good to know that my president is a Believer.

President: Thank you.  Swim fast in your race.
 
mdw

The Opening Ceremonies of the 2008 Olympics.  Where to begin…I suppose I’ll start with a schedule of the early evening:
 
5 pm take shower and put on deodorant (significant information for later in post)
5:15 get on bus with American Delegation.  Sit with Peter Ueberroth on bus.
6:30 arrive at USA Staging Arena and become a member of the self-paparazzi
7:00 meet the 41st and 43rd Presidents of the United States
7:30 arrive at the International Staging Arena talk with New York Knicks coach
8:00 start to recognize that there is an odor in the air that I am not particularly fond of
8:10 get restless when I realize that the odor is me
8:30 get picture with Kazakhstan volleyball team
9ish get ushered from my seat in the Staging Arena and slowly shuffle to the Bird’s Nest
 
The chronology of rest of the night is a bit of a blur, but I know the night didn’t end until 2 this morning - so a lot happened.  This is going to be a long post.
 
Backtracking to the beginning.  Because the night is so long and crazy, and because swimming starts competing the first day of the Olympics, most of the swimmers do not partake in the Opening Ceremonies.  Only 6 men and 2 women decided to be apart of the night.  I’m tired, dehydrated and my entire body aches, but I don’t compete for another 2 weeks, so the experience was worth it.  For people like Michael Phelps, who compete today, the Opening Ceremonies would be a disaster. 
           
After the USA Swimming Opening Ceremony Delegation team took our group pictures we all got on the bus to go to the USA staging arena.  I got to sit next to the United States Olympic Committee Chairman, Peter Ueberroth, on the bus ride from the village to the staging arena.  We talked about spear fishing in Laguna Beach.  Mr. Ueberroth, other than being a very successful businessman and philanthropist, is also a very dignified man and I’m really glad that our conversation took place at the beginning of the night when my deodorant was still putting up a fight. 
           
A short bus ride took us to the Fencing Arena, the location that the American athletes would meet President Bush.  Fortunately the President was a bit late in his arrival, so all of the American athletes got to loiter around and take pictures with one another.  This is when I became a member of the self-paparazzi.  Here is the transcript of almost every conversation that took place:
 
“Hey, can I get a picture with you?”

“Sure, can I get one of us with my camera too?”
 
The whole experience took me back to my high school prom, and, just like prom, the coolest kids in school arrived last.  Just as soon as we had finished exhausting ourselves in self-adoration, the most recognizable athletes on the planet arrived.  I succumbed to temptation and joined the other athletes as we tried, as maturely as we could, to get photos with NBA stars.

The hype of getting a picture with the NBA stars weakened dramatically when the President walked in the room.  It’s a rather funny commentary on our culture: we’re always looking for one person better than the one we’re with.  We’d have been perfectly happy taking pictures of ourselves until we saw the NBA players, and we’d have been happy with our picture with Kobe Bryant until we saw we could get a picture with the President.  

My first great photo was with the First Lady, who was really nice, and we engaged in a bit of chit-chat on swimming.  I then made my way over to the First Daughter to get a picture and, absentmindedly, I nearly asked someone in the Secret Service to take the picture.  Fortunately I caught myself before asking the serious man to do something very silly.  I stopped, reminded myself that I was acting like an idiot, and then found a person not carrying a gun to take my picture. 

I then got a picture with the former President, a man who wasn’t really interested in me at all, but gave me the obligatory 3 seconds needed to get a photo with him.  Afterwards I tried to imagine how much of his life has been wasted waiting those 3 seconds for the camera to take a picture. 

After about an hour of waiting it was time for the Swimming delegation to get a picture with the president.  Erik Vendt and I had exchanged cameras a few minutes earlier when we hatched a plan to each get a personal picture with the President even though earlier in the evening we had been told that this would not be possible.  We were told that a group picture would be taken and then mailed to us.  However, we noticed that some of the athletes in the other disciplines had managed to get personal pictures anyway, and so Erik and I were determined to get ours as well.  If you know Erik it will not surprise you when I recount what Erik told me just before we met the President:

“ Mark, no matter what ANYONE says, you get a picture of me with the President.” 
For some crazy reason this actually made sense at the moment.  It wasn’t until afterwards that I thought about the insanity of DEMANDING on getting your way when you’re 2 feet from the President of the United States. 

Erik got to the President before I did and thus he engaged Mr. Bush in this conversation:

Erik: Mr. President will you be at the swimming finals on Sunday morning?

President Bush: Sorry, but I’ll be going to church on Sunday morning.

Erik: I thought there wasn’t church in China.

President Bush: There’s church alright, it’s just underground.
 
Somewhere around that last line I took the picture for Erik, and then, lacking anything really profound to say at the moment I gave Erik the signal to hold up his end of the bargain.  I said:
 
Mark: “Mr. President can I get a picture with you?”

President Bush: “Sure you can.” 
 
I know, I’m pretty weak.  But, I got a picture with the President at the Opening Ceremonies of the Olympics, so I’m okay with being tongue-tied in the moment. 
 
Swimming was the last group to get pictures with the President and we were behind someone’s schedule so after the cameras were put away we were encouraged to hustle outside to go from the USA staging arena to the international staging arena.  It just so happened that we were exiting the USA staging area at the same time as the basketball team, and we were now walking with Kobe Bryant.  I bring this up not because I was star-struck, but rather because there were thousands of Chinese people lining the streets chanting “Kobe! Kobe! Kobe!” and pretty much going completely crazy.  I’m quite certain that my mug is in thousands of Chinese digital camera pictures right now, and equally certain that I’m getting cropped out of those pictures thousands of times over.

The primary purpose of the international staging arena was to make us as hot and sweaty as possible.  USA was shuffled up to the highest spot in the indoor arena to a place where it was certain that all the hottest air would accumulate.  I sat next to Mike D’Antoni, former Phoenix Suns basketball coach now coaching the awful New York Knicks.  After the obligatory introductions I asked him about how the NY media had been treating him and we talked about the perils of coaching in New York.  Somewhere in the middle of this conversation I realized that my deodorant had fought the good fight and had lost and so I started to become incredibly self-conscious of the situation. 

Fortunately LeBron James saved me when he came over to the coaches and told them to follow him out of the USA seating area.  There was some confusion about where they were going and why, but Coach Krzyzewski summed up the matter by saying: “I don’t know what he wants, but we can’t win a gold medal without him, so lets go.”  I was tempted to follow, but thought better of it for a number of reasons.

The next hour or so I wandered around the arena observing people as we all waited for our country to be called for the Opening Ceremonies procession.  I got a picture with the Kazakhstan women’s volleyball team and with a shooter from Kuwait that reminded me 3 times in 45 seconds that Kuwait and America are friends.  I’m trying to determine his reasoning for the repeatedly enthusiastic friendship reminders.

Eventually America’s turn came and we shuffled from the staging arena into a maze of barricades and into the Bird’s Nest.  I put my camera away at a certain point and just started to take it all in.  The walk to the arena was similar to inching towards the biggest roller-coaster ride you’ve ever been on: the adrenaline increases as you move closer and closer. 

I got out into the arena and immediately felt a difference.  I looked around the stadium and the whole scene felt so big and awe-inspiring that it almost seemed like a Hollywood movie.  I walked in slow-motion, not really looking for anything in particular, but rather in a daze of wonder at the moment.  I waved at everyone, smiled at everyone, and just enjoyed the moment.  It was incredible.
After America had made it around the track we got into our spots in the field and watched the rest of the teams file in.  On television I’m quite sure it looked good, but down there on the field it was disgusting.  The smell of sweat hung in the air and dominated the mood of the athletes for remaining hour of the ceremony.  Thousands of athletes had waited so long to get to that point and all we could think about was when it would be over.

The rest of the night wasn’t anything incredible that you didn’t see as well.  The lighting of the torch was amazingly creative.  Cheers to the Chinese, they did a great job with that moment.

After the ceremony we were bused back to the village.  We spent a lot of time in traffic and at various security checkpoints and I felt terrible for the guy from the Dominican Republic that was forced to sit next to me on the bus.  Incredibly I think I sat next to the only guy NOT sweating like crazy.  And so began the Olympics.
 
These pics were taken chronological order.  The last pic was taken at the end of the Opening Ceremonies.

MDW

A couple of days ago I was walking to the training pool here in Beijing and I saw my former coach Larry Liebowitz.  Our first handshake here at the Olympics was one of the true highlights of the trip so far.  Larry was my coach when I was a young swimmer in Santa Barbara back in 1993, and it was at that critical time in my life that Larry and I forged a life-long relationship.  I can attribute a good portion of my success in this sport to Larry.

During my swim practice that day it occurred to me that many of the coaches that have had a huge impact on getting me to this point are going to be in Beijing for the Olympics.  Following is a list of my personal coaches that are here in Beijing and the years they coached me:

Larry Liebowitz 1993-1995 (here coaching a Japanese swimmer)
Mark Schubert 1998-2003 (here as USA National Team Director)
Frank Busch 2003-2004 (here as USA National Team Coach)
Gregg Wilson 2004 to present (will be here to watch the 10K)
John Dussliere 2006 to present (here as USA Open Water Men’s Head Coach)
 
I haven’t said much about my current coach, John Dussliere, who is here as the Open Water Men’s Head Coach for USA Swimming, but John’s been with me for all of major events since 2007.  Aside from the daily grind in Santa Barbara, John and I have gone to Brazil, Spain (twice), London, and all over America for 10k races.  John’s been with me through all the training camps up to the Olympics, and he’ll be on the feeding dock during my race.  In less than 2 years John has become one of the premier voices in the 10K Open Water community in America and around the world.  I have a tremendous respect for John’s knowledge in regards to race preparation, race strategy and race analysis. Having him as my personal coach and as the Olympic coach has been really beneficial and fun.
 
Report from the pool.
 
Training is going fine.  I had two bad practices in a row so I decided to go back to the training tool that got me here – pulling.  I love pulling sets with a passion, and I would have quit this sport a long time ago if it weren’t for paddles and a pull buoy.  (Pulling, for those of you lost right now, builds upper-body strength in the water and is really much more enjoyable than swimming.) 
 
Warning for those watching the Opening Ceremonies on Friday night.
 
So, here’s the story.  A few months ago NBC wanted to get some footage of me in the new TYR swimsuit and interview me about all the new technology in the sport.  During the interview I was asked what I do in between practices, and I responded “I’m an avocado farmer.”  This wasn’t a lie, but it also wasn’t really the truth.  The truth was that over the past 2 years I have planted about 50 avocado trees at my parents’ house.  The trees were purchased at Home Depot in 3 gallon pots and, since I’m not very good at avocado farming, the trees haven’t grown very much.  It’s not like I’m enjoying avocados every night, let alone selling avocados by the pound.

Well, when I told NBC that I was an avocado farmer they were interested in the story and the producer told me “Mark, we’re coming to Santa Barbara to film you on your avocado farm.”  Thus, in the hour before the Opening Ceremonies on Friday night I will probably be on television.  It may or may not be on nationally, but NBC’s LA affiliate is almost certainly going to show footage of Mark Warkentin – 10k swimmer and avocado farmer.
The funny part of the story is that some of the trees could still be mistaken for overgrown weeds, and the most prolific ones appear to be shrubs.  Living in Santa Barbara with REAL avocado farmers, and the fact that Diana is from Fallbrook, the worldwide capital of avocado farming, I realize I am setting myself up for a great deal of ridicule at home.  This e-mail is a warning.
 
Finally, Opening Ceremonies are just a few hours away.  I’m getting my suit pressed as we speak, and at around 4 pm local time I will head over to the Bird’s Nest for what may be the most elaborate performance ever.  To put it in perspective, there are over 16,000 couples getting married in the Beijing area alone today (a Friday) because people wanted to start their marriage on the same day as the beginning of the Olympics.  If there’s one thing to watch at this Olympics (besides the 10k swim race) it’s the Opening Ceremonies. 
 
Hope all is well with all of you.  I really appreciate the e-mails that I’ve gotten over the past few weeks during this trip.
 
Mdw
 
The picture above is of me with Erik Vendt and Klete Keller – two fellow Trojans - in front of the Water Cube.

I had lunch today with Bob Bowman, Batman’s coach, and we were talking about being appreciative of the situation.  He said:

“The athletes from the larger countries may complain about this or that, but there are people here that are going to live better during these two weeks than they have ever lived before.”  I thought about it for a moment, and even though I knew he wasn’t talking about me I said: “Well, I think I may be one of those people.”  I’m a spoiled American, I know that, but I’m having an incredible time so far.  I don’t want to gush too much, but the following post (which covers the first two days here) is pretty much an advertisement for the Beijing Olympics.
 
First thoughts from Beijing.  August 5th 2008
 
I don’t know what you’ve heard or read about this Olympics, but I can assure you that this place is about ready to burst with excitement.  Everything is huge, everything is organized, everything is planned and prepared and just in case there’s a problem there’s 50 Chinese standing on every street corner willing to help.  I’ve never been to the Olympics before, but from what I can tell, China wants this Olympics to dwarf everything that came before it.
 
The people are motivated, friendly and well-spoken.  The facilities are state-of-the-art.  The food is spectacular.  Basically, if you read my last post, you can disregard the word substitution key…because this place is awesome.

Monday was travel day to the Olympics, and I decided to dress for the occasion.  I donned the sweater vest again because it’s so outrageous, but this time I wore the white shorts instead of the white pants to go along with the white shoes.  Before departing Singapore Dara Torres noticed I was dressed for success and asked me: “Mark, why are you so dressed up?” and I responded “Dara, I’m going to the Olympic Games, I thought I should look nice.” 

It was a good thing I did dress well because the flight to Beijing, onboard Singapore Airlines, was the nicest flight I’ve ever been on.  I believe the plane was the largest commercial aircraft in the world, the service was incredible, and the food was worthy of a fine dining restaurant.  I am not making up the next sentence: I could live in my seat on the Singapore Airlines plane for at least a month without a single complaint. 

We arrived in Beijing in the afternoon, and hundreds of people were waiting for us at the airport.  (Actually they were waiting for Batman, but everyone else got a lot of attention too.)  We were hurried onto buses and taken by police escort through Beijing.  In preparation for the Olympics, Beijing did a bit of an environmental makeover.  Thousands of trees line the sides of the freeway from the airport, so much so that it felt like we were going away from a city rather than towards the city.  A thick blanket of greenery was our only view until we were in the middle of Beijing. 

The Olympics dominate every aspect of Beijing and for a tourist coming to the city you’d probably miss out on the typical cultural experience.  The city in clean as a whistle and the streets are free of congestion.  The planning for this event is obvious at every turn, and, with the barricades, high-tech name tags, and general security presence, Beijing has the feel of a post-apocalypse city. 

On Monday night we went to the Water Cube, which is only a couple of hundred meters away from our dorms, but takes 20 minutes to get to because you have to walk to the bus depot and then drive around the village to get to the venue.  We’ve all seen the Water Cube and gawked at it for the past 2 years, but finally seeing it was pretty special.  It really is different than any other pool I’ve ever seen because the architecture of the building was given more planning and thought than any natatorium before it.  (If you’re a Gene Hackman fan rest assured that the pool itself is regulation size.) 

The interior of the Water Cube is beautiful, and the spectator seating goes up and up and up.  I was however a bit disappointed to see that so many of the prime seats in the natatorium have been reserved for media.  China wants these Games to be broadcast to the world, which is fine, but Olympic tickets for swimming are scarce, and many of the athlete families will have to watch their loved one swim from a television screen rather than in person because the journalist section takes up half the seating.

The dorm situation is great.  It’s new, clean and organized.  I think I can’t tell you who my roommate is by name, but he’s the world record holder in the 100 Butterfly and an incredibly cool guy.  You figure it out.  The dorm buildings are neatly organized into rows and each country has a group of rooms together in one building or, in a few cases, the entire building.  (USA and China, the two largest delegations, have at least 2 full dorm buildings.)  Every nation puts flags outside their windows and doors so that as one walks around the village you are aware of which building houses which country.  Actually, that’s not entirely true: every nation displays the flag except for America.  Because of security issues, America is absent from the dorm flag display.  Finland is here, Australia, Switzerland, and Brazil are as well, but based upon flag representation America hasn’t showed up yet.  The funny thing is, because everyone knows that America IS here, and because there’s only 2 buildings in the entire village without any flags, it’s certainly obvious which buildings house the American athletes. 

I know this post is getting long so I’ll finish with a quick analysis of the Village cafeteria.  Think of a room the size of Costco.  Now, put about 5 buffet restaurants in there and add a McDonalds.  Throw in a couple of thousand chairs and you have your Village cafeteria.  The food is excellent and there are Chinese people everywhere interested in making the experience enjoyable.  Six people, all doing different jobs, served me one piece of chicken and a scoop of rice, and when the sixth and final person handed me the plate they all looked at me, smiled and said “Enjoy your lunch.” 
I’m enjoying everything.
 
The first picture is of me enjoying my sweater vest at the airport.  The rest are from a few places around the village.  In some of the pictures I may be wearing a giant name tag with all kinds of electronic wizardry on it.  For the next two weeks I’m basically supposed to sleep with that around my neck.  I can’t go anywhere without it (sometimes I take it off for photo purposes).
 
mdw

Sunday night in Singapore           
 

This is my final post from Singapore, and tomorrow I will be in the Olympic village in Beijing.  I feel like I Aubrey Montague from “Chariots of Fire” writing home to his mum.  Actually, at various points over the past few months, I can identify with all four of the major characters from that movie.  I’d love to write that during the journey thus far I’ve emulated the life of Eric Liddell, but often times I find that I am behaving like Harold Abrahams…

We leave for Beijing tomorrow and there is a logistical item I wanted to share before I get there.  Apparently blogs are monitored quite strictly (some are getting this as an e-mail some are reading it on a blog).  Not only are there China laws, but there are also Olympic laws and both sets of laws carry with them a punishment for lawbreakers.
 
The China laws are pretty straight forward.  Don’t write anything bad about China.  I don’t know exactly what that means, but I don’t plan on being critical of Beijing just in case.  However, if criticism is warranted and necessary, I’ve created a word substitution key for readers.  If I have something critical to write about Beijing I’ll refer to it as Stockholm, as in “The smog in Stockholm is really bad.”  (Word substitution key at end of post).

The Olympic laws are totally obnoxious.  There are restrictions on the use of the word “Olympics,” and restrictions against posting pictures, so if you’re reading this at swimroom.com, usatoday.com, wsj.com or 10kswimmer.com you won’t be able to see any of the pictures I may be referencing.  (I may have just broken a rule in the previous sentence by advertising websites).  Also, I can’t write anything about any of the other swimmers so, hereafter, Michael Phelps will be referred to as Batman.

The point is that there are lots of rules and I hope the administrators of those sites are able to censor me when I forget.
 
Additionally, if you want to get more information on the particulars of the race in Beijing and of Open Water Swimming in general, go to 10kswimmer.com.  Steve Munatones, one of the most knowledgeable members of the 10k swimming community created a website with up-to-date info of everything pertaining to the race.  There’s a popularity contest currently underway and I am in a close battle with a guy from Egypt - your support in my favor would be appreciated. 
 
Final thoughts from Singapore
 
I’ve got to give credit to the people of Singapore.  When I was back in Palo Alto I signed quite a few autographs, but most of the fans wanted my signature because they recognized I was in the same costume as Batman.  Here I have people coming up to me saying “Mark Warkentin, could you please sign my autograph book?  Good luck in the 10K in Beijing.”  They even pronounce my name correctly.
 
The autograph books themselves are incredibly impressive.  Many of the people would take a picture one day then return with the developed photo the next day.  All the athlete photos would be organized alphabetically and next to each photo was an accompanying athlete biography.  It’s not hard to see why Singapore is an incredibly successful country.
 
 On Saturday the USA Team was invited to a 6 course dinner at the country club we’ve been training at for the past week.  I sat at a table with Chinese people who lived in Singapore because it’s a more financially advantageous location.  At least that’s what I gathered from our somewhat spotty conversations.  I was given another crash course in Chinese and again I forgot almost everything, except now I also know “Thank You” which is pronounced “Shea Shea.”  The attached picture is of me enjoying a Singapore country club salad, or as I call it “A culinary garage sale in a glass.”

My final practice this afternoon was pretty good.  Coach John gave me a set that we’ve done a few times over the past year. 
50 Ez 50 Strong – 29
100 Ez 100 Strong – 1:00
200 Ez 200 Almost Fast 2:02
400 Ez 400 Fast 4:07
800 Ez 800 Fast 8:28
At the end of a long week of training, working with less sleep than I normally get, I was pretty happy with the result.  Next stop - Beijing 
 
Word substitution key in case I need to criticize China:
 
Beijing = Stockholm.  As in “The smog in Stockholm is really bad.”
Chinese people = Norwegians people.  As in “The Norwegian guy that I stood next to in the elevator could have used a shower.”
Chinese food = Danish pastries. As in “I’m sick Danish Pastries.”
Chinese bathroom = Soviet Gulag.  As in “A Soviet Gulag is a place one doesn’t want to spend a lot of time.”

mdw

Sunday the 3rd of August in Singapore
 
In January of 1947 my grandmother, on her way to the mission field of India, traveled through the harbor in Singapore.  At the time she was 8 months pregnant with my dad.  Thus, I am the third generation in the Warkentin line to have been in Singapore as a precursor to a major life event, and even though I am going to the Olympics, my story pales in comparison to my predecessors.  (My Grandmothers trek to India is, without a doubt, the greatest adventure story I’ve ever heard.)  I called my Grandmother the other day (she’s fascinated that I can call on a wireless computer from Singapore to California) and let her know that I may have walked on the same streets that she walked over 60 years ago.

I spent Wednesday and Thursday between the hotel and the pool and didn’t venture into the city.  Preparation for the 10K race on August 21st (airing on August 20th in the evening in America) is going well.  I’m at the maintenance point of my training so there isn’t much to report from the swimming end of things.  All is well in the water.

Thursday was also preparation for skit night.  (Every first-time Olympian must get together in groups of about 5 and perform a funny skit for the team).  My character in the skit was John Naber (former Olympian now working as an NBC broadcaster) and I shaved my face – save the mustache – to get into character.  I got a few compliments on my impersonation but I felt like I hit a double when I really should have hit a home run.

I had Friday morning off from practice so I decided to do a bit more exploring of Singapore.  I studied the subway maps, researched local favorite spots, prepared a plan and embarked at 6:30 am.  The first stop was Little India which was a huge mistake because Little India is on the same schedule as every college fraternity in America - Friday doesn’t really start until about 11 am.  I wandered the desolate streets looking for action and adventure but found nothing but the smell of curry.

I then went to the harbor and took a cable car ride, over the ships and activity of the harbor below, to a small island with bursting with lush vegetation.  Santosa Island is somewhat environmentally protected (no skyscrapers) and visitors can enjoy a day at the beach.  I took a few pictures of the Merlion and then went back to the mainland in search of Raffles Hotel. For a Western visitor the Raffles Hotel is probably the single most popular destination point in Singapore.  Birthplace of the Singapore Sling and famous for the refined and polished custom of afternoon tea, the location is steeped in history.  Built in 1887 and named after the modern founder of Singapore Sir Stamford Raffles, the Raffles Hotel has been THE place for dignitaries and socialites traveling through Singapore.  I ventured upon the hotel as a sweaty, shorts and t-shirt wearing tourist.  It was one of the rare times in my life that I was truly embarrassed of my attire.  My outfit cheapened the experience (and ruined the décor of the hotel) and I vowed to return dressed more appropriately later on that day.

When I got back to my hotel I searched my wardrobe for the most outrageously over-the-top high-society outfit available, discovering that the ensemble in the attached photo was the perfect selection.  The sweater vest, given to me for the Olympics by the USOC, combined with the pants and shoes that will be worn for the opening ceremonies, is so obnoxious that I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.  I went back to the Raffles Hotel confident that I would add to the scenery of sophistication.  (The walk and subway ride to get from my hotel to the Raffles Hotel was rather humorous because I was essentially wearing a Halloween costume).

Unfortunately I arrived too late to participate in the afternoon tea, but I wandered around the hotel lobby and courtyard and got a picture taken in the historic Billiard Room.  I also went to the Long Bar (located in the Raffles Hotel), site for the creation of the Singapore Sling.  As a member of the USA Swimming Olympic Swim Team I am bound by an honor code not to consume any alcoholic beverage until after the Olympics, but I couldn’t pass up the opportunity completely so I ordered the famous drink virgin style.  The drink was tremendously overpriced at $15, considering it consisted primarily of ice, sugar and syrup, but this may be my only time in Singapore and as the local saying goes: “Where else should one partake of the Singapore Sling but at the Raffles Hotel."
 
mdw