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Age Is Just a Number: Achieve Your Dreams at Any Stage in Your Life Hardcover – Apr 7 2009

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Product Details

  • Hardcover: 240 pages
  • Publisher: Crown Archetype (April 7 2009)
  • Language: English
  • ISBN-10: 0767931904
  • ISBN-13: 978-0767931908
  • Product Dimensions: 16 x 2.5 x 24.1 cm
  • Shipping Weight: 431 g
  • Average Customer Review: 4.0 out of 5 stars 2 customer reviews
  • Amazon Bestsellers Rank: #788,643 in Books (See Top 100 in Books)
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Product Description

About the Author

DARA TORRES has set three world records and has brought home twelve Olympic medals, including four golds. She is the first American swimmer to have competed in five Olympics. She lives in Florida.

Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.

I’ve been old before. I was old when I was 27 and I got divorced. I was old when I was 35 and I couldn’t get pregnant. I was really old when I was 39 and my father died. But when I was 41 and I woke up in a dorm in the Olympic Village in Beijing, I didn’t feel
old. I felt merely–and, yes, happily–middle-aged. “The water
doesn’t know how old you are,” I’d been telling anyone who would
listen for the prior two years. Though sometimes, I have to admit,
I would think to myself, Good thing it can’t see my wrinkles.
On the morning of the 50-meter freestyle Olympic finals, I set
my alarm for six o’clock. I’m a type A person, or as some of my
friends call me, type A++. Basically, I’m one of those people who
has to do everything I do to the fullest extent of my ability, as fast
as I can. When I recently moved houses I didn’t sleep until all the
boxes were unpacked and all the pictures hung on the walls. I don’t
like to do anything halfway, and I’d set this crazy goal for myself:
to make my fifth Olympic team as a 41-year-old mother. And the
truth was I didn’t just want to make the team, either. I wanted a
medal. I wanted to win. Along the way, I also wanted to prove to
the world that you don’t have to put an age limit on your dreams,
that the real reason most of us fear middle age is that middle age
is when we give up on ourselves.
It was a pretty crazy thing to be doing, especially under the
circumstances. If you’ve ever had a toddler or watched a parent
you adore die, you’ll know what I’m talking about. Young children
and dying parents are truly exhausting, and I had one of each as I
made my comeback. But I knew in my heart I could succeed–as
long as I left no stone unturned.
The race started at 10 a.m., so I’d worked out my schedule leading
up to the race. I needed to drink my Living Fuel breakfast
shake at 6:15 a.m. so I’d have time to pack my roller bag–two
practice suits, two racing suits, two pairs of goggles, two racing
caps, two towels, and my dress sweats, in case I got a medal–before
I caught the 6:45 a.m. bus over to the Water Cube. I’d then do my
whole routine–wake-up swim, shower, get mashed (a massage
technique done with the feet), do my warm-up swim, get stretched,
and put on my racing suit–all before I headed to the ready room,
where all the swimmers wait before a race. My teammates, I have
to tell you, thought that roller bag was the funniest thing in the
world. They were all 15 to 25 years younger than me, the ages I
was at my first, second, and third Olympics. (I was already beyond
their ages by my fourth.) Their bodies were like noodles, and they
all carried their gear in backpacks. But I’d noticed that backpack
straps made my trapezoid muscles tense up. Swimming fast, for
me, is all about staying loose. So I had a roller bag. If I looked like
a nutty old lady–fine.
The Beijing morning was humid and dark when I left the
Olympic Village. All the other swimmers were probably still asleep.
I think that the only other person awake in the Village was Mark
Schubert, the National team coach of the USA Olympic swim3
ming team. Mark had also been my coach at my first Olympics, 24
years ago. And he’d been my coach at Mission Viejo, where I’d
gone to high school to train at age 16. I love Mark. He’s like my
fairy godfather, constantly dropping into my life at just the right
time, giving me what I need, and then disappearing again. That
morning he’d woken up in the Beijing predawn to help me prepare
for my race. We’d come a long way together. Though he
wasn’t my coach in the months leading up to the Olympics, he’d
taught me the discipline and the commitment to detail I now so
prized. We were now going–literally–one more lap.
I rolled my bag out to the sidewalk as quietly as possible. I didn’t
want to wake anybody–partly because, as a mother, I knew the
value of sleep. But selfishly, I also wanted my competitors to stay
in their beds. The longer they slept, I told myself, the greater my
advantage and the more time I had, relative to them, to prepare.
Since my daughter had been born I’d been saying that waking
up with a kid in the middle of the night was going to give me an
edge at some point. I hoped this was it.
Over at the Water Cube the competition pool was empty, so I
yelled “Good morning!” to Bob Costas, who was broadcasting up
in the rafters, found my lane, and dove in. I don’t usually do a
wake-up swim in the competition pool, but the 50-meter freestyle
is a really strategic race. Time can contract or stretch out. It’s
only one length of the pool–just 24 or 25 seconds–but it’s also
easy to get lost. If I’ve learned one thing from all my races and all
my years, it’s that the Olympics can be disorienting, and the middle
of things is where we tend to lose the plot. Part of my plan for the
morning was to learn exactly where I was going to be in the water
at every stroke of the race. So as I swam I memorized all the landmarks,
the intake jets, where all the cameras were on the bottom
of the pool. That way I’d have markers in addition to the lines 15
meters from the start and 15 meters from the end. I’d know when
to keep a little energy in reserve, and when to take my last breath
and gun for the wall.
More was riding on this race than on any other race I’d swum.
Back in Florida I had a child, Tessa, who’d one day study this race
to find out who her mother was. I had a coach, Michael Lohberg,
who’d believed in me before anyone else, who now lay in a hospital
bed with a rare blood disorder, fighting for his life. I’d had a
father, Edward, whom I’d lost to cancer just as I’d started this comeback,
and who’d wanted so much for me to realize my dreams, and
who I felt was with me every day.
And most unexpectedly, at least for me, I had a lot of fans.
I’m not being coy when I say the fans were unexpected. I’m
saying they were unexpected because I didn’t yet understand how
overcoming perceived odds works–how even just attempting
that can inspire people, and how the energy from those people can
boomerang back to you, giving you the strength and energy you
need to reach your goals. So I was surprised–deeply surprised,
and also grateful–that my dream was contagious. I’ve always been
good in a relay, but I’ve never been quite as strong in my individual
events. I’ve just never been at my best when I’m swimming
in front of the whole world just for myself. But now I had the
support of everyone nearing or over 40, everyone who’d ever felt
they were too old or too out of shape to do something but still
wanted to give it a try. I had everyone who didn’t want to give up.
I just couldn’t let all those people down. I felt they were depending
on me almost in the same way my relay teammates did. We
were in this together. I couldn’t entice so many women and men
into dreaming a little longer and aiming a little higher, and then
not win.
Of course, as anyone who knows me will tell you, I wanted to
win anyway. I’m pathologically competitive. I hate to lose. That’s
just what I’m like. If you and I were in a sack race at a field day,
trying to jump across the grass with our legs stuck in bags, making
total fools of ourselves, I’d still want to cross that finish line first.
I’d give it everything I had. But now I wanted to win this race not
just for myself. I wanted to win it for everyone who believed–
everyone who needed to believe–that a 40-plus mom could still
At 7:25 a.m. I got out of the pool and walked to the locker room
to take a hot shower. The wake-up swim and the shower were
both part of an effort to get my core temperature up. Everybody’s
core temperature drops during sleep, and that temperature needs
to rise if you want to swim really fast. My plan for the remaining
two hours before my race was to have my stretchers, Anne and
Steve, mash–or massage–me with their feet, then swim again,
then have Anne and Steve stretch me, and then put on the bottom
half of my racing suit, with plenty of time remaining to lie on a
massage table in the team area and listen to a bunch of rockers half
my age sing a song called “Kick Some Ass.” The mashing and the
stretching were critical to my performance. All the other kids in
the Olympics might have thought they could do their best by just
swimming a little warm-up, pinwheeling their arms a few times
and diving in. But not me. I was the same age as a lot of those
athletes’ mothers. Michael Phelps had started calling me “Mom”
eight years earlier. I needed every advantage.
Physically, I have to say I didn’t feel great–stiff, still not fully
recovered from the prior day’s semifinals. (Okay, let me pause right
here and say it: I’m totally fine with aging except for the recovery
time. Is it really necessary to take 48 hours to recover from a
24-second sprint?) I also felt sick to my stomach with anxiety. I’m
like that, even after all these years: On the day of a big race, I feel
like I’m going to throw up. I know it’s part of the adrenaline surge
I need in order to psych up and win. But my relationship to that
surge is like an addiction. I run toward it, crave it, can’t live too
long without it, and then it makes me feel terrible. That prerace
nausea gets me every time. I suppose when I stop feelin...

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Format: Hardcover
I thought this book was going to be more inspiriational than it was. I enjoyed the descriptions of the differences in her workouts as her body aged. She is also very honest about her problems with eating disorders and the politics within certain teams that she was a part of, which I have to give her great credit for. There were parts of this book, that, quite frankly, I didn't like Ms. Torres, which is neither good or bad. Goes with the honesty with which the book is written. I have a bit of an issue with this being promoted as an "you can do it too" book. This woman was an exceptional athlete with Amercian records starting in her early teens. She also came from money. (Sponsorships and endorsements for swimming are not equal to golf and basketball). I don't believe that she could have done what she did, or may do in the future, without having the money to pay for her pair of massagers/stretchers that are with her during training and competition, her strength training coach from a professional hockey team, and her nanny. She is, also, blessed with the support of her husband and mother. I can do without the, "I am a mother above all else" sentiment throughout the last years on which the book was based. I know that having a child fills you with an undescribable love and changes someone fundamentally, but being a top athlete, especially beyond a certain age requires total dedication. It's your workouts, your rest, your diet. You have to be selfish.

Overall, the book is well written and honest. Despite my complaints, I did enjoy getting to know Darra and her triumphs and trials.
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Format: Audio CD
"Older" is not a popular description in our society, but Dara Torres has turned that idea upside down, inside out and every which way with her inspiring story, "Age Is Just A Number."

Sports enthusiasms well know who she is - Torres is the Olympic Gold Medalist who restarted her career at the unheard of age of 41. Not only was she older but she was a new mother and her father was fighting cancer. Eight years prior to this comeback she had retired, thinking that was the end of her swimming career. Not so!

We hear, "I've been old before. I was old when I was 27 and I got divorced. I was old when I was 35 and I couldn't get pregnant. I was really old when I was 39 and my father died. But when I was 41 and I woke up in a dorm in the Olympic Village in Beijing, I didn't feel
old. I felt merely-and, yes, happily-middle-aged. "The water
doesn't know how old you are,"

How right she is! Water does not know how old we are nor does the Earth nor do other people. For us, the problem is that we know and we gauge our attractiveness and abilities by the calendar. Torres will change minds regarding those assumptions as she candidly discusses doubts, believing in ourselves, perseverance, and really believing we can achieve whatever goals we set for ourselves.

If you want to hear a really upbeat true story with lots of good advice, give a listen as narrator Rebecca Lowman tells us just how it can be done. Winner of the 2006 Boston Film Festival and an accomplished actress, Lowman delivers a distinct, listenable reading of one woman's inspiring story.

- Gail Cooke
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Most Helpful Customer Reviews on (beta) 4.0 out of 5 stars 53 reviews
30 of 30 people found the following review helpful
2.0 out of 5 stars Disappointing June 29 2010
By Gwen - Published on
Format: Paperback
First off, the title is misleading - this is not a motivational or a how-to book. It's a memoir. I knew this beforehand so it wasn't an issue but others could be confused. Dara Torres won three silver medals at the 2008 Olympics - an incredible achievement, especially since she was 41 at the time. I was curious about her story and hoping to be inspired at the same time. Unfortunately, I was distracted by the poor writing (even with the help of a co-writer) and the extremely disorganized chapters. There were also strange gaps. For example, she goes into detail about her first marriage and subsequent divorce but later in the book only mentions in passing that she got married and divorced to someone else in the meantime. (I'm not saying that she's obliged to provide personal info but the inconsistency was odd). I wanted to know how, after not swimming for 7 years (literally not a single lap) she launched straight into training with her team. Wouldn't she be extremely out of practice? This is never addressed. I ended up feeling very frustrated.This could have been so much more.
2 of 2 people found the following review helpful
5.0 out of 5 stars Female Athletes Will Be Inspired and Feel a Connection with Dara Aug. 8 2009
By AquaJock - Published on
Format: Hardcover Verified Purchase
As a competitive Masters swimmer who grew up swimming in the same era as Dara, I loved this book and could relate to it in every way. So many of the coaches and swimmers who make up her story are people I knew or know about so it took me back to "the good ole days" of age group swimming. I also appreciate how she candidly shared some of the most negative aspects of sport - such as undue pressure to be thin and to lose weight which is such a terrible problem because of too much focus on appearance vs. health. This pressure nearly killed a girl I swam with in high school who went to the University of Florida and was never overweight but they made her think she was so she ended up with anorexia! Male coaches and trainers criticizing female athletes and telling them what they should weigh and how they should look has got to stop!!

I felt such a connection to many elements of Dara's life, personality and emotions about her sport which I think any female athlete, not just a swimmer, would be able to relate to. Even though she has more trainers and domestic help than most of her readers, Dara comes across as real person, who anyone could talk to, with problems ordinary people face, but yet she is extraordinary at the same time which makes you want to strive to be better yourself. She also creates the excitement true competitors feel when they are about to race which makes you want to go out and do it! When I finished the book, I couldn't wait to get back on the blocks again which I did the very next day!

This book also sends out an inspirational message to readers that there is much to be gained from competing and being active as older adults which is wonderful - more and more older adults are feeling better than ever in their 40s, 50s and beyond because of healthy activity - thanks, Dara, for getting the message out that getting moving is where its at because I believe that with all my heart!!
5.0 out of 5 stars Excellent read and reminder that come backs happen throughout one's ... Aug. 4 2016
By Kathyfitz - Published on
Format: Paperback Verified Purchase
Excellent read and reminder that come backs happen throughout one's life - always fascinating to get a look into the mind of a champion as they go for a dream and make it happen.
1 of 2 people found the following review helpful
5.0 out of 5 stars INSPIRING May 8 2009
By Arthur A. Guzzetta - Published on
Format: Hardcover Verified Purchase
What a woman! What i enjoyed about this book was the sharing of both the good and the bad in the life of Dara Torres. Her drive in life is exceptional and i learned so much about the sport of swimming at the professional level. This woman did not have an easy life but overcame many obstacles with sheer determination and true love for her sport and her family. Age is just a number and i say if Dara decides to compete once again God bless her.
1 of 3 people found the following review helpful
5.0 out of 5 stars age is just a number May 11 2009
By Dawn Blacklidge - Published on
Format: Hardcover Verified Purchase
Dara Torres inspired me with her performance and Spirit last summer in the Olympics.
This book takes you beyond the visible and into just who Dara is, where she came from (her life experiences) and how she came to realize (just as I realize) that age is purely a number.
She operates also with the power of the "secret"....the mind and manifests her desires
I teach all of this at my bootcamp in hawaii [...]