by Justin Engelkes
The national championship moment may have only lasted a few seconds, but for Jason Swarens, the path to that throw stretched back through years of setbacks, technical transitions, and the kind of disciplined routine that teammates say defines him as much as his power in the ring.
UW teammate and fellow bouncer at Wandos Bar & Grill, Jacob Zednik, summed it up. “Jason is the only track athlete who comes in, does the exact stretching routine every single time, works as hard as he can every practice, and is motivated to be the best person on the planet. And he’s going to be, very soon,” he said.
Now a decorated collegiate athlete, Swarens didn’t grow up dreaming of shot put glory. Long before he was a national champion, before the USA gear, before Poland, Germany, and Costa Rica, Jason was a sixth-grader in Terre Haute, Indiana.
“I did a sport every season,” he says. “Track was just what happened in the spring.”
At his middle-school tryouts, athletes sampled every event: sprints, distance, throws. “I was always a bigger kid,” he laughs, “so the shot put felt natural.”
He stuck with it. By sophomore year of high school, he was throwing 56 feet. By junior year: 64, and a state title. College recruiters quickly got in line, Purdue, Kentucky, Wisconsin. But the choice had been made long before the offers. The Swarens family legacy at Wisconsin runs deep: his grandpa played football and did track, his grandma danced here, and his aunt ran track.
“My whole family on my mom’s side is from Wisconsin. So once I got recruited, did my visit, and he called me with an offer. I was like, ‘Yeah, I’m gonna go.’ My mom gave me this look. She knew,” he said.
To the untrained eye, shot put might look simple, pick up a heavy metal ball and launch it, but the sport is deeply technical. “People don’t realize how much balance a shot putter needs,” Swarens explains. “I like to consider it a dance.”
And the strength demands? Nearly inconceivable.
“To throw 22 meters, at an Olympic level, they say you need to bench 500 pounds,” he says. “My coach always says you need to bench, squat, clean, and snatch your body weight times seven. So a 300-pound thrower needs roughly 2,100 pounds across those lifts.”
At the collegiate level, adaptability becomes a must. Throwers transition from using a 12-pound ball in high school to a 16-pound ball in college. Techniques shift too. Most start with the glide, a straightforward movement from the back of the ring into the power position. But in college, his coach transitioned him to the rotational technique, the version used by nearly every world record holder.
The road to being a champion is never easy, and every athlete has a moment they would rather forget. For Swarens, it was the Big Ten Championships during his junior year.
“I was seated first,” he says. “Then I fouled two throws, and the third was like 17 meters. I didn’t even make finals.”
He returned to his hotel in silence, spending an hour alone while his family waited in the lobby. After an hour, he texted them back: Let’s get dinner.
“It put everything in perspective,” he says. “That meet really sucked. But the season didn’t end there.”
Unsurprisingly, he rebounded, made Nationals, and swept both the Big Ten indoor and outdoor titles.
“You can’t let it be too easy,” he says. “If it is, you get content.”
From there, everything accelerated. He made the U23 NACAC team, flying to Costa Rica to compete in full USA Olympic gear.
“That gear is sick,” he laughs.
Despite placing runner-up behind another American, he had gotten a taste of the Olympics and a glimpse into the world he wants to join. Germany came next, his first official overseas meet. Then, finally, the national championships.
Everything that day came down to his final throw. He entered the finals in first place, but then one athlete passed him, then another, then another…
“I was fourth heading into my last throw,” he told me. “My coach just told me, ‘You don’t need to do anything different. Just do what you’ve done before.’”
He stepped into the ring, took a breath, and launched the shot into the air, flying for 21 meters and the championship win.
“I knew instantly,” he said. “I screamed. I looked at my family. There’s a video of one of them with their arms frozen straight up the whole time.”
Away from competition, Swarens decompresses with roommates, video games, board games, and long recovery sessions, hot tub, cold tub, contrast therapy, stretching. Off-season means family time, rest, and resetting before the build begins again. He has also stepped naturally into a mentor role.
“There were always older guys I looked up to,” he says. “Now, younger throwers ask me questions, lifting, technique, recovery, everything. I just try to give them good feedback. What works for me might not work for everyone, but I’m here to help.”
Considered one of the most effective yet gentle members of the security team, when he has free evenings, he picks up bouncing shifts at Wandos where he’s affectionately known as “Mr. Big Sexy”. Amidst the chaos of a college bar, Swarens can frequently be spotted lifting people off the ground and carrying them out the door.
“Hes a hard worker. Plain and simple that’s why he will always succeed.” says his boss Jay Wanserski.
So what’s next after winning a national championship?
Long-term goals, the LA Olympics in 2028. “Home turf would be amazing,” Jason says.
And the legacy he hopes to leave at Wisconsin?
“It’s cool to be the national champion,” he says. “But I want people to remember me as a great guy. A good teammate. Someone they’ll watch on TV in 2028.”
And watch we will.