For nearly twenty years, I was unbeaten in Bulgaria in freestyle events.
I won hundreds of medals from national and Balkan championships, competed at European and World Championships, and qualified for two Olympic Games.
At one national championship, I won 11 gold medals, 10 of them in individual events.
But the most important lesson of my life did not come from victory.
It came from the same mistake I experienced twice.
Once in Bulgaria.
And once in America.
π§π¬ Varna
I am from Varna.
That is where I became a swimmer.
My greatest successes came under the guidance of the legendary swimmer and coach Borislav Georgiev.
Today, many people would probably say that our conditions were terrible.
Hotel pools
Often, we did not even have access to a proper training facility.
No lane ropes
We trained wherever we could find available water.
Green water
Sometimes the water was so green that I could barely see my own hands.
But we had something else.
Freedom.
Borislav Georgiev had a unique approach. Instead of pushing athletes from the outside, he encouraged them to push themselves from within.
I do not know whether this approach worked for everyone.
But for me, it worked perfectly.
We trained less than many of my competitors. But we trained with quality.
The results were remarkable.
In the 100 meters, I often won by a full body length.
In the 200 meters, sometimes by several body lengths.
Once, in the 800-meter freestyle, I lapped the second-place swimmer by a full 50-meter lap.
I even won events that were not my strongest disciplines, including butterfly, backstroke, and individual medley.
Everyone kept saying the same thing:
"Imagine how far you could go if you had the facilities and conditions of the swimmers in Sofia."
Eventually, I started believing it too.
ποΈ Sofia
My father did everything possible to give me that opportunity.
At the age of 16, I moved to Sofia.
Away from home.
Away from my friends.
I joined a training environment with national champions such as Krasimir Zahov and Ivan Angelov.
My coach was Lily Krasteva.
Exceptionally dedicated to the sport.
And so was I.
But I was not used to that approach.
The logic was simple:
More training would produce better results.
But that is not what happened.
Instead of getting faster, I started swimming slower.
Year after year, my performances declined.
It bothered me deeply.
I could not understand how it was possible to train more and perform worse.
Eventually, I made a decision.
I moved to train under Krasimir Tumanov.
His philosophy was much closer to that of Borislav Georgiev.
At my very first competition, I achieved personal best times.
It felt as if I had awakened again.
As if I had become myself again.
That was when I should have learned the lesson.
But I did not.
πΊπΈ America
In 2000, at the age of 21, I moved to the United States.
My first stop was Iowa State University.
My coach was Trip Hedrick.
One of the most impressive coaches I have ever met.
A person who could bring out the best in any athlete.
But during my first week, I learned that the men's swimming program was being discontinued.
I was offered the chance to stay.
To receive a full scholarship.
To complete my education.
But I had not come to America just for an education.
I had come to become part of the world's swimming elite.
That is why, in 2001, I transferred to Indiana University.
There I met Kris Kirchner.
Within just a few months, he understood exactly what I needed.
He did not make me do more.
He made me do the right things.
The result was a gold medal and a silver medal at the US Open.
Once again, I felt like myself.
Once again, my potential began to unfold.
And once again, I believed my best years were still ahead of me.
The Same Lesson, for the Second Time
Then a new head coach arrived.
Ray Looze.
And the story repeated itself.
For the second time.
On another continent.
With different people.
But with the same outcome.
The philosophy was simple:
"You are not talented. You need to train more."
And once again, I believed it.
There were days when we swam nearly 14 kilometers.
I started struggling to complete workouts.
I could not hit the required training sets.
I felt constantly exhausted.
I moved like a zombie.
Until my body finally gave up.
A muscle around my shoulder blade atrophied to the point that it ended my career as an elite swimmer.
I had learned the same lesson twice.
Only the second time, the price was much higher.
π‘ The Real Lesson
Today, I do not blame anyone.
I do not blame Lily Krasteva.
I do not blame Ray Looze.
In fact, Ray Looze later became one of the most successful coaches in the world and developed multiple Olympic champions.
Clearly, he learned and evolved.
Just as all of us do.
But my story taught me something different.
The problem is not always a lack of hard work.
Sometimes the problem is the belief that more work automatically leads to better results.
Not all athletes respond the same way.
Not all bodies respond the same way.
Not all personalities are motivated in the same way.
What turns one athlete into a champion can destroy another athlete's career.
From Experience to ZLiX and NEREUS
Years later, that lesson became one of the foundations behind ZLiX and NEREUS.
Because I believe the future of sports is not more training.
The future of sports is a better understanding of the human being.
Because sometimes a career does not fail because of a lack of effort.
Sometimes it fails because of a lack of the right knowledge at the right moment.
About the Author
Valentin Milkov
Founder of ZLiX and Maze-M
Creator of the NEREUS cognitive-engine concept
Former Bulgarian national and NCAA Division I swimmer

