Perfect.
The next 50, I gave it a little more juice. As the fly leg ended, I was in first, Cseh second, Lochte third.
I figured Iâd be ahead after the next 100 as well, after the backstroke.
Lochte apparently had a different idea.
He went out hard over the first 50 of the back and turned there in first.
At 200, I was back in front but not as far ahead as I had planned when I was visualizing. Lochte was just behind me, Cseh third.
We turned for the breaststroke.
This was where Lochte apparently thought he could school me.
No way.
The breaststroke felt as good as my breaststroke has ever felt.
Coming off that 300 wall, I had no idea where either Lochte or Cseh was. I knew only that I had to give it everything I had in the free.
It wasnât until I turned at 350 that I knew what was what. I was in Lane 4. Cseh was in Lane 5, the one next over to my right; Lochte in 6, one more over. When I came off the 350 wall and took my first breath, turning my head to the right to breathe, which was in their direction, I couldnât see either of them, couldnât see the splash from their hands. I was way ahead, and suddenly I had the same feeling I had in Athens. You take your first freestyle stroke on that last leg, the race is almost over, and youâre in the lead. Underwater, just as Iâd done four years before, I smiled. I smiled as I churned for home, going strong.
After touching, I whipped around so fast, trying to see my time on the big scoreboard at the other end of the Cube, that I bumped my head into the wall.
The scoreboard said I had hammered home in 4:03.84.
Just as I had dreamed it.
My 300 split time: 3:07.05.
4:03.84. I had smashed my own world record by 1.41 seconds. Even I had to say to myself, wow.
A little more deliberately now, I leaned up against the wall, then onto the lane line and raised my arms above my head, touchdown style.
Bob was nodding his head up and down in approval, a big smile on his face.
In the stands across the way, my mom gave Whitney a kiss,then put her hands over her face in relief and almost disbelief. Hilary wiped away tears.
Back the other way again, President Bush and the First Lady, and their daughter Barbara, along with the presidentâs father, President George H. W. Bush, were waving and cheering. President Bush gave me a point and a head nod. Cool. I said thanks with a big smile. Later, he told me, âGod, what a thrill to cheer for you!â
Wow.
Looking at the scoreboard, I could see that Cseh had finished second, more than two seconds behind me, in 4:06.16. Lochte had gone out too hard in the first leg of the backstroke and paid for it at the end of the race. He was third, more than four seconds back, in 4:08.09.
âI saw Lochte going (slower) and I tried to do everything to go better than Phelps, but I donât have too much power for that,â Cseh said. âAnytime you think you can get close to Michael Phelps, he jumps to another level.â
I got out and met Bob. That was awesome, he said. Letâs swim down.
Later, looking at the numbers closely, Bob said this might have been my best race.
Not like my best race of the year. He meant the best race I had ever done. Considering the circumstances, taking into account all the pressure and distractions and the buildup and the general noise around me and the Games; it was exceptional, he said.
On two of the four legs, I swam faster on the second length than the first. On the backstroke, for instance: 31.37 going out, 30.2 coming home. On freestyle: 28.94 going out, 27.85 coming back.
Thereâs a term in swimming for going faster in the back length than the first. Itâs called ânegative splitting,â and itâs a strategy that certainly doesnât work for most everyone else. Common sense says it ought to be harder to go faster on the back half than the front.
Itâs just the way Iâve always done it.
Where I really won the race, what made me
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