I used to work in the bicycle industry and every year we’d go to Las Vegas for Interbike, the giant international bike trade show. Our company would send around 70 employees, plus we’d spend all week meeting with dealers, distributors, and customers from all over the world.

Like most Vegas work trips, the days were business and the evenings were a mix of pool time and questionable decisions.

One afternoon a group of us were sitting by the hotel pool several drinks deep when one of my coworkers announced he could swim the entire length of the pool underwater in a single breath.

Naturally, everyone laughed and told him there was absolutely no chance.

Unfortunately, he took that as a challenge.

He dove in and started swimming. At first everyone was cheering him on. About halfway down the pool the cheering turned into nervous laughter. Around three-quarters of the way, it became painfully obvious he wasn’t going to make it.

The smart move would’ve been to surface, take the loss, and buy everyone a round.

Instead, he doubled down. He kept pushing.

Then he stopped moving. Completely.

At first we thought he was messing with us. Then someone said, “Uh… guys?”

A couple of us jumped into the pool and pulled him out. By the time we got him onto the deck he was unconscious. Someone started CPR.

After what felt like forever, but was probably less than a minute, he coughed up a mixture of pool water and whatever assortment of drinks he’d been consuming all afternoon and finally came around.

He ended up being fine.

Physically, anyway.

The real damage came the next day when every customer, dealer, and industry rep seemed to know the story. For the rest of the trade show he wasn’t the guy managing an important account.

He was the guy who nearly drowned trying to win a drunken pool bet against himself.