Ole Braunschweig was pretty out of breath after his last World Cup competition in Berlin. The 25-year-old pulled himself out of the 50-meter pool, ran along the sponsor wall, breathing heavily, stopped, put his hands on his knees. Braunschweig came seventh in the 100 meter backstroke final, but it wasn’t about medals anyway, the DSV swimmers are all already looking ahead to next year, to the World Championships in Doha in February and to the Olympic Games in Paris. “I’m glad I didn’t finish last,” said Braunschweig, panting, “that was good for the pear.”
He grew up in this hall, took part in children’s competitions here, and rides his bike from his shared apartment in Berlin-Lichtenberg, which he lives with his swimming colleague Ramon Klenz, here, even to the World Cup. But now he was just exhausted, but was looking forward to keeping his promise.
Braunschweig has been the best German backstroker for years – and a special one. Because his childhood shaped him. And because he never allowed himself to be deterred by the glittering world of professional sports. He has remained authentic, straightforward, Berlin snout. In 2021 he was at the Games in Tokyo and last July at the World Cup in Fukuoka. There hasn’t been enough medals yet, except at the 2022 European Championships, where he won bronze in the 50 meters – his greatest success. After the World Cup, he went on a backpacking trip through Japan with his training colleague Angelina Köhler, with the following plan: “I’ll definitely gorge myself and then start the new season with three kilos of extra weight.” Braunschweig now confirmed in Berlin that the plan worked exactly that way.
He takes these experiences with him, traveling, the World Cup, immersing himself in other cultures. Along the way, in recent years he has persistently swam into the top ranks of the world. That alone is astonishing for someone like Braunschweig, who didn’t really have an easy time of it in his youth and wasn’t one of the most privileged.
“There were times when my parents didn’t have much money, so they had to support my brother and me.”
Braunschweig was born in Berlin-Biesdorf, a part of Marzahn in the east of the city. The father is a firefighter, the mother is in the office. “I didn’t grow up poor, but there were times when my parents didn’t have much money and they had to support my brother and me,” says Braunschweig. Malte, his younger brother, was born with dysmelia, a malformation of the arm muscles.
Ole Braunschweig put the seahorse in the “Helmut Behrendt” swimming pool, the water was his element, he was happy here. Not so much when learning. When class work was being done in elementary school, Braunschweig was strangely distracted; he looked out the window, “and when a mayfly flew by, I was much more interested in the fly.” The teacher was then surprised that in the end only two out of ten tasks were finished on her student’s sheet. Braunschweig could spend hours making paper airplanes at home. But do homework? Difficult. At some point the diagnosis came: ADHD. Until he was 15, Braunschweig went to occupational therapy in order to be able to channel things better and to cope with tasks that he didn’t enjoy. But for swimming, he says, “my ADHD helped me a lot.” He was there in the tunnel.
A good Berlin kebab? “Three sauces, extra meat, salad, everything except red cabbage.”
The parents supported their sons in their extremely time-consuming hobby, provided driving services, paid for suits and training camps. And saw that swimming became a source of fulfillment for their children. Malte also headed towards the top. In 2021 in Tokyo the time had come, both started there, Ole at the Olympic Games, Malte a few weeks later at the Paralympics. The parents set up a screen and projector in their garage. “At three in the morning they sat in the garage with 20 people from the neighborhood, drank tea and beer and watched our competitions,” remembers Ole Braunschweig.
Open detailed view
With a beard and Berlin snout: Ole Braunschweig.
(Photo: Maja Hitij/Getty)
Actually, he shouldn’t have made it to Tokyo at all. In 2016, in a meadow, he fell with his knee into a ten centimeter long shard that was stuck in the grass, the bursa tore, as did the artery, and because his friends were sitting next to him, frozen in shock, he called the ambulance himself and saved himself. At the end of 2019, he tore his cruciate ligament during athletic training, and two days later he was back in the training pool, just crawling with his arms. Six months later: Pfeiffer’s glandular fever. Then came Corona, and Braunschweig was also infected at the beginning of 2021. He once told the SZ: “I always want to achieve my goal, no matter what the cost.” Braunschweig achieved 25th place in the 100 meter backstroke, no matter what, the main thing was that. Malte came eighth in the 100 meter butterfly, and at the World Championships this year he won bronze in the same distance and in the 100 meter freestyle.
On the Thursday before the World Cup, Ole Braunschweig was invited to a sponsors and media meeting of the World Swimming Federation in a cocktail bar high above Berlin, along with greats like Adam Peaty and Sarah Sjöström. Braunschweig looked around in disbelief. “It’s an honor to be here,” he said, “this isn’t really my world.” He already knows where he comes from.
Despite tired legs on Sunday, he kept his promise after the last competition. Braunschweig once gave the Australian swimmer Kaylee McKeown, three-time Olympic and world champion, and her compatriot Brandon Smith his promise to go out for a really good kebab with them in Berlin. He knows his way around. His order, as always: “All three sauces, extra meat, salad, everything except red cabbage.”
