A behind the scenes look from Newsweek at the life many Olympians are faced with after the Olympics. Unlike other periods when athletes had to quit competition in order to live and get a job, sponsorships allow their sport to BE their job. But the down economy is being felt by even the most notable of Olympic heroes, like Jason Lezak. 

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Less than six months after swimming one of the most electrifying laps in the history of his sport—the greatest 46 seconds of his life, witnessed by billions of people—Jason Lezak is sitting in an anonymous hotel conference room in Phoenix trying to save his career. The four-time Olympic gold medalist is wearing a button-down shirt and black slacks.

Across a small table is a smiling, silver-haired gentleman whom Lezak, 32, has just met. The two strangers are being set up. This is a speed date, so to speak. If a connection is made, the older man, a brand-management executive for Mutual of Omaha named John Hildenbiddle, will have a new corporate spokesman. And if the deal is big enough, Lezak, one of many Beijing Olympians who are now effectively unemployed, will be able to get back in the pool. The men shake hands. “I’ve been looking forward to this,” Hildenbiddle tells him. “Me too,” says Lezak. He’s nervous. He feels awkward, selling himself like this. But he’s out of options. Over the din, Hildenbiddle asks Lezak about “that race,” which he says he’s watched “50 times” and still gives him chills. Lezak has recounted the story more than 50 times, but he’s glad to do it again.

It was late morning in Beijing on Aug. 11. In the waiting area before the start of the 4-by-100 freestyle relay, Lezak called a huddle with his young teammates, Cullen Jones, Garrett Weber-Gale and Michael Phelps. Lezak told them he had been a part of this relay in 2000 and had come in second. He was a part of this relay in 2004 and got bronze. The message: enough. They nodded and walked out to the pool. Lezak, the veteran, would swim last. For Team USA to win, he figured he’d have to hit the water ahead of France’s Alain Bernard, the world record-holder in the 100-meter freestyle. But when Lezak dove in, he was already behind. Way behind. At the 50-meter turn, he glanced right and saw Bernard a full body-length ahead. “I thought,” Lezak tells Hildenbiddle, “this is impossible.” Team USA was going to lose yet again, and Michael Phelps’s dream of winning eight golds was about to end while he stood helplessly on the pool deck—unless Lezak swam the last 50 meters faster than anyone ever had. Gradually, he began inching up on Bernard, who seemed to be tiring. Hildenbiddle leans in as Lezak speaks more softly, trying not to sound boastful. As the wall drew closer, Lezak tells his audience of one, he kept thinking the same thought: “I have to do it.”

The face we all remember—after Lezak caught the Frenchman from behind, clinched the gold and turned himself into America’s second-favorite swimmer—belonged to Phelps, who let out a primal roar, his features locked in shock and exhilaration. But Lezak got his moments in the spotlight, too, including a visit with Oprah. He tells Hildenbiddle about all the people who have cheered him in airports all over the country, but he leaves out the other comment he hears all the time: “You must have 10 sponsors by now!”