This time of year is always nostalgic for me and it’s because it’s college swimming conference season. Once upon a time, before I spent a tiny fortune on bikes and traveling all over to races, I was just a swimmer. As athletes, we are always chasing that perfect race, that perfect game, that perfect moment. The fact of the matter is that it will most likely never happen (hello to my Ironman races 😂), but we are always in pursuit of perfection. And sometimes it does happen.
Most of you know that I grew up swimming. I started swimming competitively when we were stationed in Ohio and somehow the sport stuck. My past with swimming is honestly complicated. I loved the sport deeply, but to be truly good at it, it takes a huge amount of sacrifice. I got pretty quick as a 12 and under, hit puberty and got frustrated with the sport because I wanted to be a normal teenager, fell in love with it again around when I turned 16, and got lucky enough to walk on to a division 1 program at UNLV. Looking back now at the decision to go to UNLV and how pivotal it would be in setting me on my path in life, is honestly mind blowing now. Especially for a young woman from a tiny town next to Death Valley - who knew where it would take me. But I digress, this is about the perfect race.
Anyway, I was a decent swimmer with a lot of potential when I walked on at UNLV. My coach Jim was a magician at finding the “diamonds in the rough” and he had fantastic stories about swimmers that turned their swim careers into stellar swim careers. I knew I wanted to be one of those stories. BUT it did not come quickly for me. My first two years of college were rough when it came to swimming. I did improve, but my mind was my own worst enemy. I had decided to major in Biochemistry which took up an insane amount of any free time I had and I NEEDED to be perfect. I NEEDED to be perfect in swimming. My personal life wasn’t great at that time (spoiler alert - boy problems). I just could not let go. I finished nearly last in the 1650 at the Mountain West Conference Championships my freshman season and scored points only in the 800 free relay. I was demoralized. In my sophomore season, I scored individually in the 500 and 1650 at conference and we ended up winning the MWC team title for the first time (20 years ago this week!!), but I still was unhappy.
Looking back it wasn’t swimming that was making me unhappy, it was me, my mind. I didn’t know then, but I know now I was really starting to manifest symptoms of bipolar disorder. I knew I worked hard, I was really fast in practice - it just never showed up in meets. Anyway, the summer of 2005 after my sophomore year, something changed. It’s hard to pinpoint what happened, but I changed. I re-dedicated myself to the sport and let go of what I couldn’t control. I swam with coach Kunio that summer and we had an amazing crew that stayed for the summer to train. By the time championship meets rolled around for the summer, I was dropping time like crazy. And that’s when I knew I was playing the long game (despite almost retiring after my junior season because I could have graduated early and I was freaking tired. I had a big problem trying to overachieve at everything).
Everything began to change during my junior year. I won my first college races in duel meets. During training camp, I was one of the few people to make through a monster set in D (distance) group. I worked hard. Because of my class and lab schedule, I often swam on my own, lifted on my own, and did dry land on my own. There is a reason I wanted to retire early - hard sciences and sports are insane. After I received an award for most outstanding senior in biochemistry my senior year, my biochemistry professor told me that I was only the second student-athlete to successfully complete 4 years of sport and a degree in chemistry. That year at conference, I placed top 8 for the first time in both the 500 and 1650. I knew then, I couldn’t quit, I had to do my 4th year.
The momentum was rolling. There are workouts/meets that I remember where I knew something special was coming. I started enjoying the process and I loved the training. I remember Kunio making me swim every event at a meet at University of Arizona that summer (prelims and finals!), except for the backstroke events. Which I am still grateful for because my backstroke is sad and pitiful. I remember the week where all my morning workouts were no less than 10000m, afternoons still massive in yards, capping off Saturday morning with 12000 meters. I still remember one of the main sets - 2x (1500, 1000, 500 on 1:20 base). I thought I was done and then Kunio said I was doing 6 x 200 pull on 2:30. I cried when he gave me that set because I was so tired. But I had an amazing team behind me and the sprint and middle D swimmers came out on deck and cheered for me. I had an awesome training partner in Erik Ringdahl - I like to think we made each other better swimmers, mostly because we beat the crap out of each other battling in practice everyday. I won the 1500 free at sectionals that summer. And this walk-on swimmer got herself on some scholarship money her senior year.
And so I began my senior year. I let my goal be known that I would when the 1650 at conference. There was no doubt in my mind that I would take that championship. Every practice I visualized it - I became a machine. In training camp the month before conference, I threw down the best workouts of my life. I pulled a 16:30 1650 in practice. I did 9 x 500 descend 1-3 on 5:30 and destroyed them (ironically nearly faster on the fast ones than I went in the 500 at conference 😅). I remember these workouts 18 years later because they marked a milestone in me - I knew it would happen.
Finally conference 2007 came around. I should mention that I am a true distance swimmer through and through. I used to joke that a 5k pool swim would be my bread and butter - 1650 was just a little too short 😂 I swam a PR in the 500 in the first day and placed 5th. I out split a lot women in that last 200, but I just could not get out fast enough. I barely PR’d my 200 and at least scored points of the team. The 200 was even worse for me than the 500 because it is REALLY too short. My best swims in the 200 always came when I swam the 1000/200 double in college since they were back to back. I spent the whole week waiting for the very last day of the meet. The 1650 is always the last day. Thankfully, they don’t make you swim it twice and go based on seed times. I think I was seeded 3rd and would swim in top 8 in finals, so I had the morning off. There are always days you can remember so clearly and this is one of them.
I started the day off with a warmup swim during prelims and cheered for all my fellow Rebels. Erik was in the morning heats of the 1650, so you better believe I counted for him during his very last college race. I remember eating a Panera Bread bread bowl and soup for lunch and trying to stay calm. Finally, it was time for finals. After my long-ass warmup because I am a diesel engine and it takes me basically an entire workout to warmup, I got ready for senior recognition. On the final night of conference, they recognize all the seniors from all the teams. Luckily, the 1650 is the first event on the final night so I didn’t have to wait much longer. I remember being annoyed that I was second seed and didn’t get to choose our walkout song (top seed gets to choose the walkout music), but I also remembered just being so happy to be in the moment. This was my moment, my event, and I was going to enjoy it. Competition was going to be fierce - there were two underclassman I’d been battling all year from Wyoming and BYU, and the former conference champ and fellow senior from UTAH. BTBNTY (IYKYK). There were nerves of course, but I mostly remember being at peace with whatever happened, immensely grateful, and amazed that 13 years of work had led to this moment. I looked up and saw my mom and dad, my sister, and my boyfriend at the time. Then I looked over to my team - all of these people were sharing this amazing moment with me. I cried into my goggles and had to keep fussing with them so they wouldn’t fog up 😂
I heard “take your mark” for the final time I would swim a 1650 and then the quiet as you submerge under water. That first 500, all 4 of us were together. I felt amazing. Nothing hurt which is a miracle since every other 1650 I have swum had always resulted in me dying and unnatural death on the pool deck after. But this time, there was no pain. One of the things I loved about distance swimming, is that you could always “tell” that if you made a move, you would break the other swimmer. Intuition was telling me to make that move at the 500. I went and never looked back. Over the 16 minutes, you can hear the cheers getting louder. I heard the announcer while racing (not knowing what he was saying) and then I looked over to the side of the pool deck - my teammates were all lined up on the side of the pool. My excitement was building and I knew I was going to win. I just wanted to get out and celebrate with everyone! It was down to the final 150 of the race and I had about a pool length lead on 2nd. Most of the time, that final 150 is one of the worst things you will ever gut out, but that night I felt like I was flying. I started crying into my goggles again and finally I saw the magical lap counter for the final length (no ever put in the red side for me, just 69 - jerks lol). I had finally made it. I touched the wall and nothing I ever could imagined could have described that moment. It was so loud, it was electric. I looked around again and it was just one of those perfect moments I never wanted to end. I somehow managed to jump halfway out of the water in celebration - had to remind myself to stay in until the last finisher finished, but then I bolted out of the water to go celebrate with my team.
This is the part that is a blur. There were so many hugs and tears (not just mine!!). I got a huge bear hug from Kunio and Jim. I remember asking Jim if I could break the rules just this once to go celebrate with my family (we stayed on deck during the meet, with friends/family in the stands). He said yes, so I bolted up there with my cap and goggles still on, and ran to meet them in the UNLV cheer section. I got to have my podium moment and things started to sink in what I had done - what that swim meant to me. The fact that it means this much to me 18 years later speaks volumes to what it was. So many things have to go right on meet day and it finally came all together in my very last college swim. There was sadness knowing that it was over, but mostly joy for accomplishing what was a far reaching goal and gratitude to every single person who supported me and believed in me during my swim career. At dinner that night, I asked what the announcer had said in those final laps that got everyone riled up. He said something to the effect of “That is Lani Seaman from UNLV leading. She was dead last in the 1650 her freshman year at this meet and tonight she will be a champion in her final swim.” It really was the perfect race.
I think what meant the most after all was said and done, was that my teammates were genuinely just as excited as I was. I wouldn’t have been able to do what I did without all of them through the years. As much as swimming is individual, it is very much a team sport. That swim was just as much for them as it was for me. They ended up voting me for the most inspirational swim that year and I still display it proudly ❤ Also finally, just a reminder that I was 3rd to last my freshman year, not dead last 😂
