No escape from the LZR swimming suit
Updated on 06 August 2008
Alex Thomson gets to grips with a swimming suit that can break world records, and cause embarrassment into the bargain.
I don't know what made me do it. Yes I do - Sarah Corp, the producer here, and Matt Jasper, the cameraman. The trouble is you see, I just kept assuming it was a wind-up.
Then we all arrived at the Speedo pool in Beijing and the press officer beamed at me with what I still think was an evil glint: "Right Alex - so you're going to try the suit on are you?"
Except that it was only a question in the technical sense. I was royally stitched up. I was under orders. I was going to model the Speedo all-body swimsuit which has revolutionised swimming.
They even have to give you an extensive lesson on how to get the damned thing on. I began to feel nervous and sweaty. The woman warned me: "Take your time. If you get nervous and sweaty it gets really difficult. Oh - and don't tear it - they're three hundred quid."
Need not have worried. They sent about six burly ex-serious-swimmy-type-blokes into the changing room to see that I'd get it right. Into the changing rooms if you please.
Ever tried to wear a black condom? I mean wear one, like all over you. No, me neither, until this morning.
I looked around. There were no cubicles! Just wide open spaces. Benches for heaven's sake. Hang on a minute - this was worse then no help at all.
"Er - I didn't bring my trunks," I said. Great. Get out clause. Film one of the Speedo blokes in a LZR. Get the story. Get the hell out of here. Brilliant Thomo - brilliant!
"You don't wear them," said one of the burlies. He was all confidence. Outdoors. Aussie. Git.
Now I really was sweating. "You what?"
"Spoils the streamlining mate." Oh god. Streamlining? Is he familiar with my pool work?
Another of them suddenly clapped me on the back. That's body contact that is. In the changing room: "Don't worry. We've seen it all before," he laughed. Blokey reassurance. I felt sick. What the hell was that supposed to mean? Did he know something about me? Information only available to my GP?
I felt a little dizzy. So I sat down and got on with it.
I held up the suit. It was roughly the size and shape of a small dead bat. Ever tried to wear a black condom? I mean wear one, like all over you. No, me neither, until this morning.
With much grunting stretching and being zipped up and padded down by my dressing team I was ready. Well no, I was knackered.
I padded out. It would be good at this point to say I felt like a seal: firm and poised for the pool ahead. It would be very good to report that. But it wouldn't be true really. I felt just like my team wanted me to feel.
Like a dickhead.
"They hold you in. Very flattering", the Speedo woman had chirped breezily upstairs, eyeing me rather too closely around the tummy.
Along the corridor, round the corner, footbath and that's it - I'm poolside and exposed. Caught in the pitiless lens forever. And now they can stick all this on the web can't they?
Assorted human torpedoes were sliding up and down the pool with barely a ripple. That didn't help either. My slothlike entry was seconds away.
Suffice to say two things. I felt fine undewater where nobody could see and even that bloody camera couldn't really detail the full horror.
And the team at least did me the favour of not actually belly laughing in public. So all I have to do now is prevent any of this getting on the telly.
The LZR suit has caused 48 world records in swimming to fall since February. Because every swimmer is allowed to have one it's considered quite fair and not cheating.
Today I broke no world records in swimming, surprisingly. Both producer and cameraman declined to wear a LZR suit. I consider that quite unfair and definitely cheating.
