Its been 31months since the best and worst day of my life. The biggest achievement I’ve experienced to date, the most emotional pain I’ve ever felt. Something that required sacrifice from everyone in my life. People pushed, believed, supported and when I failed, they were the first to say it was ok, that they were proud of me and what I had done. I wasn’t with them, I hated it all. I hated everything that the Olympics stood for and I hated myself for failing and coming 12th. Ultimate sacrifice of time, money, mental and often physical well being for one race on one day. A race that people tell you is immortal but we all know is forgotten about after the hockey game. I put everything into it and it crushed me. I don’t expect anyone to understand but I know there are those that do. Team mates that stood beside me and went through the same feelings of defeat. I questioned everything I’d ever worked toward. I thought all this work, for what..
The past 31 months I lost the love for what I do. I watched helplessly as I fell from 5th in the world in 2010 to somewhere around 30 where I am now. I sat at home through part of the 2010/2011 season with a shoulder injury. Then came into the 2011/2012 season having sat at home for 7 months recovering from shoulder surgery. Own the Podium who have been amazing to me and to sport in this country no longer see value in funding me. I am on the B team and am not funded, something that is the fault of no one but my own.
This summer I took a good look at what lay ahead. Why keep going, why stop and most importantly, What it all means to me. Going into Vancouver I did it for glory. For the dream of going to the Olympics, to make it to the top of a sport because I believed as a 15 year old I could. I put all of my trust into the people I was working with because I was young and didn’t know anything about anything. The Olympics turned out to not be what I thought it was and neither were the people involved.
This time its for me. For the defeated man inside of me. For the kid who wanted to do it when he was 12 years old and saw the rower Silken Lawmen with the Olympic ring tattoo on Stony Lake. For the 23 year old who in 2010 clawed from 24th in the world without a hope of going to the games to a World Cup Gold Medalist ranked 4th in the world walking into that Olympic village. For the defeated 23 year old 2 weeks after that day. For the people that support me and for the ones that don’t believe anymore. For the old me on my death bed wanting to have lived with only disappointments, not regrets.
This time it isn’t to go. It isn’t to win. Its to see truly, under the gun, what am I made of.