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This is an amazing
letter from Eric Tang, a former Miramonte rec, Campolindo
High School, and Orinda Aquatics swimmer. It is very
telling of passion, team, academics, and
perseverance.
Hey Ron and
Don,
I just wanted to check in with
you guys about my last season at Columbia University. On May 16, I’ll be
graduating with a Bachelor of Science in Chemical Engineering with
a pre-medical concentration, which I’m told are the most
difficult major and concentration respectively. Over the past four
years I’ve accumulated 155 credits, 25 more than I need to
graduate. I’ve also seen grown men and women breakdown and
cry during exams. What does a chemical engineer study? Some of my
classes include Fluid Dynamics, Heat Transfer, Thermodynamics,
Reaction Kinetics, etc. Luckily I have pre-med/bio classes to boost
my GPA. In four years excluding the two weeks I was near dead with
mono, I had a 100% practice attendance, so if you guys have any
kids who complain how difficult their schoolwork is, just tell them
it is possible.
Anyway, during an interview a
couple weeks ago, I was asked: “Swimming is often
thought as an individual sport. How is it in any way a team
sport?”
Swimming, contrary to common
belief, is anything but an individual sport. In fact, I
would like to be bold enough to say that swimming is far more of
team sport than those like basketball, soccer, or football. In
these sports, you’re forced to play with other people.
It’s part of the rules, part of the game. Swimming is
different. In swimming, you are given a choice. On one hand, you can be that
individual that trains and competes just for personal goals only.
The person who is more concerned of what he or she wants rather
than what the team needs. On the other hand, you can be that
athlete who acts in the best interest of his or her teammates.
The person who is
willing to sacrifice anything to help bring the team closer to its
goal.
You don’t wake up at 6AM
six times a week because you simply enjoy swimming. You
don’t put yourself through 20+ hours of training, 20+ hours
of punishing work, 20+ hours of living hell on a weekly basis just
because you personally want to be a better athlete. You do it for
the 30 or so other members on the team who also trained their butts
off not because they wanted to be an Olympian or a NCAA champion or
even a NCAA qualifier, but because they too wanted the team to
excel and win.
Every time I strapped on my
goggles and stepped onto the blocks to race, everything was always
as clear as day, everything made perfect sense. Each race, I was
prepared to swim my heart out every single yard, every single
second. No matter how tired I felt, how hurt I was, I was ready to
rip myself to pieces before letting another swimmer from an
opposing team defeat me. If I gave anything less, I would be
disrespecting my coach, my teammates, and this school. This was my
responsibility to my team and I knew the other guys on the team
shared that same weight. This is one thing I’ll miss about
swimming: everyone on the team seeing things the same
way.
This especially applies to a
team like ours, in which most of us will never be a part of the
sport’s elite. Only a couple of us have NCAA B
cuts (barely), a handful with national cuts. However, characterized
by our 12 meet season, our relatively small physical size, and our
refusal to rest or shave for anything besides Ivies, Columbia's
Men's Swim and Dive Team has established itself over the years as
not only the scrappiest and least talented, but also the toughest
and craziest group of SOBs that ever competed in the Ivy
League...Standing at 5’7’’, I can confidently say
I am the scrappiest, the least-talented, and the craziest of them
all.
Four practices into my final
season I was diagnosed with mononucleosis, which was quite the
pain. After my more severe symptoms died down after a couple weeks,
I went against medical advice and decided go back training
full-time because I knew that, even at my current state, I could
still put up some points in dual meets. This marked the beginning of the
three most painful months of my life. The first 6 dual meets were
not pretty. After each race, my muscles would cramp up, I would get
light-headed, and my vision would go blurry. It wasn’t a good
feeling. I swam horrendously, going 59s in the 100 br,
2:10s-2:14s in the 200, getting my ass kicked by guys I was
supposed to be beating.
The first half of the season
had taken a toll on my body, but my poor performances only made me
more fired up. It made me hungry. There were six more
meets left in the season, and I wanted to prove to myself, to my
teammates, and the whole league that I still had some fight left in
me. I got a nice little rest over winter break and soon what
appeared to be the worst season of my life rapidly transformed into
the best. As a second semester senior, I literally swam like there
was no tomorrow. In the last five dual meets, I put up
times that I never knew I was capable doing unrested/unshaven going
58.1, 57.8, 57.6, 57.6, 57.0 in the 100s and 2:07s, 2:06, and 2:05s
in the 200s.
At the Ivy League Championships
in March, it appeared that our team was the only team that was not
significantly affected by the suit ban. Racing at Denunzio Pool at
Princeton as usual was quite the experience. Every single row of
the complex was packed with parents and students. During each final
swim, it got so loud, I could feel the blocks shake. As a team, we
swam out of our minds. Our team, the same team that was
projected to get 6th or 7th, roared back from a 150 point deficit
to sneak past a much more talented Penn team for a 3rd place. No
one in the league was expecting such a finish - no one except us.
Princeton and Harvard were in a league of their own, so a 3rd place
finish was quite the honor. I attribute most of our success not to
a good taper, but to our support for each other. I had
never felt so proud as a member of this team than when I was
standing on the podium among my teammates with that small
trophy.
Individually, I swam well,
going 56.09 in the 100, 2:02.2 in the 200, and 1:54.0 in the 200
IM. These were a little bit faster than my times last year, but
most of the people were adding anywhere between 2-5 seconds in each
event. I finaled for the first time, getting 6th and 7th in the 100
and 200 respectively. I also swam the breast leg on the 200 and 400
medley relays for the first time since I was 12 years old. Our
relay placed 2nd in both events, garnering 2nd-Team All-Ivy Honors
and getting NCAA B cuts.
It was nice way to end my 15
year swimming career. I was later selected to the 2010 Academic
All-Ivy Team for winter sports. The top 5 male and female athletes
with over a 3.0 GPA were chosen from each Ivy-League school for
their academic and athletic achievements. The other fellow members
from Columbia included a runner who was an Ivy League champion and
record holder, a fellow swimmer, an all-american academic
basketball player, and an All- Ivy League fencer. I felt honored to
be recognized among the Ivy League’s
elite.
Anyway, I’ll be back in
the bay post-graduation. Starting August, I will be working for Dr.
Jeff Fineman for a year at UCSF Medical School doing some research
in pulmonary hypertension. I plan on going to medical school in
Fall 2011.
I wish OA and your respective
high school team’s good luck.
-Eric “E-Tang”
Tang
PS: I ran some rough
calculations concerning the mileage I’ve put on my body over
my lifetime. In 21 years, I have approximately swum 15.3 million
yards, which comes out to be 8,600 miles. To put that in
perspective, the distance between San Francisco and New York City
is about 3000 miles. I have also spent 7,300 hours training, which
is equivalent to 304 days.
Do I ever wish I could have
those days back?
The answer is
No.
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