PARENTS NEED TO SLOW DOWN
GIAAN ROONEY SITS DOWN WITH ANN WASON MOORE
GIAAN Rooney watches as the swim coach nervously walks over.
It’s a true circle-of-life moment. The woman who taught the former Olympian stroke correction back when she was just a Gold Coast schoolgirl is now giving lessons to her son, Zander. “Giaan,” says the coach. “I remember when you were just learning, I saw the natural talent in you from day one.” A pregnant pause.
“It’s safe to say … your son hasn’t got it.” Sitting in a waterfront cafe on a sweltering February day, Giaan recounts the story with delight. “She thought I’d really be upset by that … and I was thrilled. People think that surely I want my kids to be swimmers but actually, I’d really prefer it if they weren’t. “It’s a brutal business.” The 36-year-old mother of almost-five-year-old Zander and 20-month-old daughter Lexi is not being harsh, just pragmatic.
As refreshing as a glass of ice water on this muggy Gold Coast day, Giaan is relentlessly realistic. It’s the key not just to her undeniable charm, but her unarguable success.
She’s one of the few to have successfully transitioned from the pool to a post-swimming career on dry land.
Her reputation remains as crystal clear as the water she dominated, and that’s no accident. Although she does debate her actual sporting legacy.
“I was not a great swimmer,” she insists, gold medals and world record notwithstanding. “I was no Leisel Jones or Susie O’Neill or Petria Thomas. I came through at a time when Australian swimming was great, and I caught some of that reflected glory.
“I just always knew, even at the height of training, that this was going to end one day and I always had to keep an eye on my options.
“I don’t have a degree, I never had a job before swimming, I didn’t have a resume, I’d never had a boss, the only thing I
ever had was my reputation and I knew I had to protect it.
“The easiest way to do that is to just be true to yourself. I am who I am, I don’t have to pretend because this is me.”
Currently contracted to Channel 7’s sports department, with her next gig commentating for the Australian Swimming Championships in April, Giaan is also an ambassador for a number of brands and in demand as a public speaker.
Oh, and she just wrote a book.
Lemon the Llama, a tale of one farm animal’s journey to self-discovery, was inspired by Giaan’s desire for her children to embrace inclusion and individuality, as well as a tribute to husband Sam Levett, who grew up on a farm in rural Victoria.
Released just days before Zander started Prep at Surfers Paradise State School, Giaan plays down her authorial debut, insisting it was accomplished “with much hand-holding’’.
“I still can’t say ‘author’ with a straight face, but I love that it’s something I can share with the kids,” she says.
“I was approached to write it but it was something I really wanted to do. I loved writing and English at school and I actually enjoyed writing all the rhymes. The theme of the book is very important to me – I want my kids to be accepting of differences.
“It’s one of the reasons we chose a state school for Zander. I love that he will meet kids from all walks of life.
“Having that perspective is something that helped me both in the pool and out.
“I’m realistic about what I achieved then and what I can do now. With two small kids and a busy lifestyle I do have to turn some things down because I know what I can and can’t handle. You can’t be successful if you’re totally overwhelmed.
“As disappointing as it was not to be covering the Australian Open this year after it moved to Channel 9, in a way it was actually perfect timing. With Zander starting school, which he loves, I really wanted to be here for him.
“I also had the release of the book, which was fantastic, but I have a feeling that this might be a one-off.
“We’re pretty much just keeping all the balls in the air as it is.”
It’s one of the reasons why she is so personally disappointed for her friend, former training mate and fellow Gold Coaster Grant Hackett. Watching his postpool burnout both broke her heart and hardened her resolve to keep her expectations and ambitions real.
“Grant’s transition after swimming started brilliantly,” she says.
“He really is a lovely guy … I still don’t really know what happened there.
“To explain Grant, he is still the hardest trainer and hardest worker I’ve ever seen. I trained alongside him and he was an absolute animal, he just killed himself.
“He was not the most naturally talented swimmer, which you could tell by his stroke, but he was an absolute workhorse and the toughest one out there.
“But I think when he started applying that to the business side of things – and I haven’t discussed this with Grant, so this is purely my own opinion – I think he was so tough on himself, and the expectations he had of himself were so high, that he almost couldn’t live up to his own sense of achievement and
I’d rather be honest and criticised than fake and criticised
success after swimming finished.
“He just put too much pressure on himself.
“I really feel for him. He’s a very intelligent guy and was doing incredible things in his work life, which I don’t think a lot of people quite understand. I just think the standard that he held himself to was too high.”
Pressure is a point of contention for Giaan, particularly from her position as a mother.
In fact, while she may not believe herself to necessarily be nailing parenting, she has far more perspective than most other soccer mums spotted in the schoolyard.
“I have a lot of parents who come up to me and say: ‘Oh, my child is really talented.’ And I say: ‘How old is your child?’ And they say: ‘Eight.’
“And then I say: ‘Find another sport.’
“Seriously, take them out of swimming … almost hold them back.
“I played netball until I was 14. It was netball in winter and swimming in summer.
“The only important thing in the early years is developing the right technique. The time will come for fitness but their bodies need to develop and, most importantly, their minds need to develop.
“Every girl I raced, and I didn’t even start squad until I was 11, every girl I raced at 12, 13, 14 who was a gun, they burned out and never went on to do anything with swimming.
“They had too much too young. Parents need to slow it down.
“The margin of those who make it is so small, and some of it really is luck. You need the stars to align to become a star.
“If my kids really want to do swimming, I will be 100 per cent supportive, but there is no way I’m pushing them in that direction. The pressure and the problems now are worse than they ever were in my day.”
Giaan says although she personally never had to deal with issues of body shaming, peer pressure or discrimination, the advent of social media lends a whole new pressure to budding sports people.
She says while she generally has a very supportive community in her online world, and a truly supportive community in her life on the Gold Coast, even she cops abuse at times.
“The worst is when I’m commentating. You know, half the people are telling me to stop being such a ‘cheerleader’ and the other half are telling me not to be so negative. I literally can’t win. So I just have to be me – I’d rather be honest and genuine and criticised than artificial and fake and criticised.
“I really do feel for the kids coming through now, though. It’s just a whole new level of pressure to navigate.
“As a country, I feel like we also need to sit back and adjust our expectations of these kids.
“I came through what was probably the last golden era of sport. Australia put a lot of money into sports in the late ’90s, early 2000s and there is a direct correlation between money and sporting success. You just can’t argue with that. But now other countries have caught on. Look at England, for example. The fact is that we didn’t leverage off our success the way we could have. It’s always been a point of pride for Australians that we hold our own in sports against countries with enormous populations compared to ours. I just think those days are over and I don’t want to see individual competitors held accountable.
“Look at China. They have so much invested in sports which we cannot compete with, so many people to choose from which we cannot compete with, and a mindset that we just don’t have. You know, the incentive for a poor child from China to become a success and change his whole family’s life is enormous. We can’t offer that, which is a good thing, but it does mean the drive is not a case of life and death.
“The training regime their kids go through, for us it would be almost a human rights issue. We can’t and won’t adopt those strategies. People just need to understand that the result will inevitably be less medals. And that should be OK.”
In fact, it’s the incredible standard of their life here on the Gold Coast that Giaan most wants her children to appreciate.
She says she works hard to help her kids understand just how much they have, and just how grateful they should be.
“I think starting school will help put it in perspective for Zander as to how lucky he is,” she says.
“Our family does have certain privileges but the flip side of that is that there can be extra pressure.
“That’s part of the reason the kids have Sam’s surname. I don’t want any special treatment for them – or special pressure.
“When we married I decided to keep my maiden name because, to be honest, I am proud of what I achieved as Giaan Rooney.”
Their names may be different, but Giaan says she and Sam are on the same page when it comes to priorities.
Family always come first, something that was dramatically driven home last year when daughter Lexi suffered a febrile convulsion.
A combination of fatigue, teething and a fever saw the then 11-month-old endure a seizure before she stopped breathing.
“Lexi was lying on her front in Sam’s arms, limp like a rag doll, unconscious and turning blue – and at that point, I looked at her and thought ‘she’s dead’,” she said at the time.
“Then Sam said ‘How far away is the ambulance? She’s dying.’
“He started performing CPR and had her breathing again before the ambulance arrived.
“She’s absolutely fine now – and was soon after the event – but it was just the most terrifying, awful moment of my life.”
Giaan nominated Sam for a Pride of Australia medal for his lifesaving action and says he is the hero of the family.
“Sam is just unflappable. He’s the calm in the storm when I’m stressing out,” she says.
“Actually, the week that all happened with Lexi, two days later we had to put our dog Lester to sleep.
“It was just heartbreaking. I got him two weeks after I retired from swimming, back when I was single and I swear he was my soulmate. I still cry because I miss him.
“We haven’t got another dog yet because I’m just not ready. I’m honestly still grieving.
“The silver lining is it really does make me appreciate the love of my family and especially Sam.
“From the time we met, we’ve always been a case of opposites attract. He had no idea who I was and I loved that. We’ve been married for seven years and while kids absolutely put pressure on any instability in your marriage, I can honestly say that we are rock solid.
“There have been times when I’ve really felt I’m just failing as a mother – neither of my kids were sleepers and there are times that I’m not sure how we all survived.
“But Sam is always there helping me through. I think he’s a better father than I am a mother. I’m not beating myself up, I just think he has the right temperament for it.”
So in her own words, Giaan isn’t the world’s best swimmer, writer or mother – and maybe she’s not, but she’s pretty damn good.
Still, it’s not a lack of confidence that forms her judgment, she’s just keeping it real.
As usual. And that’s why we love her.
Some of it is luck. You need the stars to align to be a star