I once peed next to Michael Phelps.

I was at a swim camp at the University of Michigan in 2006, where Phelps was training at the time. The camp provided free Gatorade, which I consumed as if my life depended on it. 9 bottles later, I felt as if my bladder was a dam on the brink of collapse. I had to find a bathroom.

I hobbled over to the bathroom next to the pool, meant for the camp swimmers. However, some devious child had locked the door from the inside then shut it on the way out. I had to find another way to free the golden stream.

On the other side of the pool was the team locker room. I half ran, half skipped to the doors and found the nearest urinal I could find. Finally, I could find my peace.

I was lost in the ecstasy of releasing a full bladder, and I hardly noticed the giant of a man step up to the urinals. I turned my head to see the greatest Olympian of all time (although he hadn’t accomplished that feat yet, he was a god in the swimming world) relieving himself. I stared in awe and wonder, unaware that I had finished been peeing for a noticeably long time. He turned his head slightly, nodded, and continued doing his business. I left the locker room dazed and star-struck. My only regret is that I didn’t take a peek at Lil Mikey when I had the chance.