Competing At the 2006 Olympics - Reflections of an Extreme Tobogganer

Being an athlete at the Olympics is a larger than life experience! The whole event from start to finish is a giant rollercoaster of emotions – loop-de-loops included. For many athletes, myself included, competing at the Olympics is a childhood dream. In fact, some days I still feel as though my Olympic experience was all a dream. In the moment I was so immersed in the experience my feelings about the whole event seemed normal. A few months later the experience was still so fresh, and the pure exhilaration of a momentous accomplishment was still pulsing through my veins. At that time it still seemed reasonable for the Olympics to feel like one fantastic dream. However, it has been 5 years since I donned the red and white for my country at the 20th Olympic Winter games in the sport of bobsleigh, and it still feels like a dream. Maybe competing at the Olympics will always feel like a dream, who knows? But, as I sit here and reflect on my Olympic experience the event is still crisp in my mind; a memory etched into my consciousness forever. 



When I was still an Olympic hopeful I had the pleasure of listening to an Olympian reflect on her Olympic experience. She told us that marching into the Olympic stadium was going to be the experience of a lifetime, and it was. I was filled with so much pride I wanted to burst. She also said, “When the Olympic Flame lights the Olympic Cauldron, that flame will also set fire to your heart. This is a flame that will be with you for the rest of your life. For once you are an Olympian, you will always be an Olympian.” So this is where the journey down memory lane begins, with the lighting of the flame inside my heart. 



Technically speaking, an athlete becomes an Olympian after the cauldron is lit at the Opening Ceremonies, and the Games are declared open. Is that where athletes actually become Olympic, where I became an Olympian? No. No, because the elements that ignited the fire in my heart where set in place long before I marched into the Olympic Stadium. No, because the foundation was built through a lifetime of hard work, pain, joy, determination, blood, sweat and tears. No, because the countless hours of practice and dedication to excellence allowed me to walk into the Olympic stadium. Through hard work, and the encouragement of many coaches, my parents, and those who believed in me, I was able to accomplish greatness. 



As you can see, an athlete becomes Olympic long before they march into the Olympic stadium for the first time. Yet, the moment the Olympic Cauldron is lit, is the moment all hard work, sweat, blood and tears become worth it. Every sacrifice – big and small –becomes meaningful. In that moment you know you have achieved a momentous goal. You revel in the pride pulsing through your veins, you smile bigger than you’ve ever smiled in your life, and possibly you shed a few tears of joy. AND THEN, you realize that your journey is far from over. Although you are very proud of how far you’ve come, you know there is work left to do. In mere days you will go toe-to-toe with the best athletes in the world. You’ve worked incredibly hard to get inside the Olympic stadium, but you are not here as a spectator. You are here to compete!

For most athletes when they qualify for the Olympics they know they will be competing - barring an injury or personal tragedy. However, when you are a brake“person” on a bobsleigh team your fate is a little more questionable. I was the first bobsleigh athlete to qualify for the 2006 Olympic team, yet the last to have a secure racing position. I wasn’t able to secure my racing place until after the Games had begun. The 2005-2006 bobsleigh season was the most stressful year of my life. As a brake“person”, every time you step onto the bobsleigh track, it matters. Every time you push a bobsleigh, it counts (that’s what we do at the start). Whether it be training or racing, your performance is always being measured against your teammates. For the last 5 years Canada has had the strongest, most successful pushing teams in the world. During the 2006 Olympics 2 sleds got to race, with 2 spots for Olympic brakewomen (women compete as a duo, where men compete as 2’s and 4’s) and 3 girls worthy of those 2 spots (I was one of those girls). This made choosing who got to race and who had to watch extremely difficult. 

The final brakeman decision for the Canada II pilot (Suzanne Gavine-Hlady) was between myself, and the second brakeman of the Canada I sled (2^nd brakeman: Kaillie Humphries – current Olympic gold medalist, Canada 1 pilot: Helen Upperton – current Olympic silver medalist).

All year Suzanne and I had been teammates. As a team we had consistently pushed top 2 start times, and came close to a few international start records (start times are the brakeman’s claim to fame in the bobsleigh world). Together we slid to the best finishes of her entire bobsleigh career. Needless to say, we were performing well together. We sacrificed a lot for each other, and were there for each other. However, the federation wanted to make sure that the fastest teams were together, whatever the cost to team cohesion. In a sport where winning and losing can come down to .01s, the coaches wanted to make sure they had all their bases covered. Two weeks before the Olympics Kaillie and I went through a series of push offs (Push offs = 1 brakeman pushes pilot one run, the other brakeman the other. Fastest time wins.)

 I won by .01s and declared the racing brakeman…or so I thought. The night before opening ceremonies the head coach announced that Kaillie and I would be pushing off…again…a week before competition….over not one, but two-days. I was scared that all my hard work would amount to nothing- that in the final hour my racing spot would be snatched away from me. At the beginning of the season Suzanne and I had made a pact to each other to start and finish this journey together. It was heartbreaking to think that we had come this far, and we were inches away from losing all that we had worked for. Two ridiculous push offs later and the spot was finally, and rightfully mine. PHEW!

For clarity sake here’s a step-by-step progression of events:


Step 1: Decide to become an Olympian at age 8


Step 2: Devote entire life to being an athlete (3 national teams – 3 different
 sports – age 12-20. I had just turned 20 a month before the Olympics.)


Step 3: Work rear end off to qualify for the Olympics


Step 4: Arrive at Olympic Village


Step 5: Enjoy Opening Ceremonies


Step 6: Leave for training camp in Switzerland and fight tooth and nail for
 racing spot with current teammate


Step 7: Get back to Olympic Village


Step 8: Do 6 runs of official training



Which brings us to Step 9: Compete!



I felt SO READY to finally compete, and I was. I was in fantastic shape, and technically I was pushing great. I had worked hard to be one of the best brakemen in the world, and it showed. However, things didn’t turn out the way I had hoped. Our start times had us ranked 3rd at the top of the track (you’re probably thinking “that’s not so bad”, however our start times were disappointing for what we were capable of). Regardless…we started 3rd and we finished in 13th position. I am not sure if it was the pressure, or the political garbage that was thrust upon us, but Suzanne and I didn’t come together as the team we should have been, and once were. I still look back and try to figure out what went wrong. We gave it our all, but that spark just wasn’t there. Suzanne didn’t get the support she needed and was afraid of crashing every run. She wasn’t in control of the sled, and I was too inexperienced, too young to know how to help her. 



For a long time I felt ashamed and embarrassed abut my performance. I thought I should have done more, and that I disappointed a lot of people who were counting on me to “succeed”. Even though I earned my racing spot, I thought the federation had made a mistake letting me race. I thought it would have been better if we had crashed. And then I realized that way of thinking was a self-imposed prison. It was my choice to think like that or not. I earned my spot, and did what I could in that moment. Do I wish the moment could have been different? Absolutely. Do I regret anything? Absolutely not. 



There is a saying called “Olympic luck”, which basically means that anything goes at the Olympics. There’s a huge chance that the favorites will crumble or under perform, as a result the “underdogs” “wild cards” and “dark horses” tend to over perform. Suzanna and I were the wild card team and I was hoping for an Olympic miracle. I didn’t get it. Yet, what I have come to realize is the lessons I learned on the road to becoming an Olympian are invaluable. These lessons are something that universities can’t teach and money can’t buy. But they can be shared!



The Olympics fosters some of the biggest triumphs, and the deepest disappointments. Yet, sometimes when you lose, you win. My Olympic success came when I moved past the results and harnesses my experience in a positive way. Once the competition is over only the memories, the lessons and the burning hearts remain.

Wisdom from our k-9 Companions:

We all could learn a thing or two from "(wo)Man's best friend". Here are a few helpful reminders for our day-to-day lives from our K-9 companions:

• When loved ones come home, always run to greet them.
• Never pass up the opportunity to go for a joyride.
• Allow the experience of fresh air and the wind in your face to be pure Ecstasy.
• Take naps.
• Stretch before rising.
• Run, romp, and play daily.
• Thrive on attention and let people touch you.
• Avoid biting when a simple growl will do.
• On warm days, stop to lie on your back on the grass.
• On hot days, drink lots of water and lie under a shady tree
• When you're happy, dance around and wag your entire body.
• Delight in the simple joy of a long walk.
• Be loyal.
• If what you want lies buried, dig until you find it.
• When someone is having a bad day, be silent, sit close by, and nuzzle them gently.

ENJOY EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY!

A message from a wonderful friend

"Women are like apples on trees. The best ones are at the top of the tree. Most men don't want to reach for the good ones because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt. Instead, they sometimes take the apples from the ground that aren't as good, but easy. The apples at the top think something is wrong with them, when in reality, they're amazing. They just have to wait for the right man to come along, the one who is brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree."

I wonder who will be brave enough to reach the top branch to pick this apple!?!?

Thanks for the reminder Jenni, you are an amazing friend!

Since It's Christmas and Because I am a Girl!

This Christmas I asked my aunts and uncles not to buy me any gifts. Instead of spending money on me, I ask them to donate to a charity instead. The charity I picked is called, Because I am a Girl. It provides girls in Africa a better opportunity to move past the economic barrier, and realize their worth as a human being. They are not magicians, but they are trying to remove some of the barriers and provide the support these girls desperately need. I know my act of charity isn’t a big contribution in the grand scheme of things, but it felt good to know that I was able to help in a small way. My aunts and uncles bought mosquito nets, birth certificates and emergency kits. The great part about this charity is every donation is either matched, or tripled by 3^rd parties!

The request I made to my family must have touched my mother’s giant heart. For, she also made a donation to the charity and bought her nieces (and myself) t-shirts supporting the cause! My one aunt unfortunately didn’t receive my Christmas wish. Although she has a big heart and her intentions were pure, she gave me a card full of money instead. True to my Christmas pledge, I donated the money to Because I am a Girl and bought my girlfriends the same t-shirts! Who known’s how these shirts will inspire my friends and others in the future!

Although my Christmas bounty was significantly smaller, I receive something much more valuable! It did not bother me in the slightest to give up my presents, because I knew I made a difference in someone’s life. I live in a family where I have more than I need. That is not the case for many people in this world. Although Christmas has turned into a capitalistic corporate machine and it is easy to become bitter, lets not forget what the essence of what Christmas stands for. To me that essence is celebrating with loved ones, and sharing your good fortune with others.

"We make a living by what we get, but we make a life by what we give" Winston Churchill

Merry Christmas to all and to all a goodnight!

A walk with Rumi

I recently finished a book titled, “Forty rules of love – a book of Rumi”. This book touched my soul, and its message came at a time when I needed it. (Funny how that happens!) Lately, I have been searching for a bit of inner guidance - neither religious nor “new wave spirituality”. I’ve tried them both, and although they work for many people neither of these paths are not mine to walk. Not that I believe that I am superior, just different.

I began searching because I have been feeling a little lost, empty and in search of something….more. I was raised in the Anglican tradition (the semi-made up church of England), and celebrated Ukrainian traditions on the high holy days. I don’t think that I was ever really religious. At church as a child I listened politely to the stories, sang the song, but mostly colored in my coloring book! After being confirmed, I left the church in search of something else. (A little bit backwards I know - to confirm my “faith” in the church, only to leave it once I reached the age “deemed fit to make that decision”, but there you have it). I was always unsettled to think that God only heard our prayers once a weak in a certain places. Or that people only talked to god when they needed something.

Since a child I have always had a communication with “god” (whomever or whatever you want to call that “presence”) that is constant, and all encompassing. So what did I need people teeling me what to do for? God was inside me, and so I began my own spiritual journey. This journey has lead to me to many different places - elite athletics: gymnastics, track & field and bobsledding, and eventually a more spiritual world. Praying to the god of athletics, I got lost in the perpetual drive for competitive excellence. Then my brief, yet intense love affair with the world of yoga and all things “mystical” had me lost is their esoteric ways. That came to a crashing halt as I met person, after person on the path that was more angry, bitter and dissatisfied than most “unenlightened” people.

As I mentioned before, I have always believe that “GOD” as we so readily call him, her, or whatever is within me, as it is with all of us. “Heaven” and “hell” resides within all of us as well – both constituting the emotional states we put our “mortal souls” through on a daily basis. That small voice inside us (and I am not talking about schizophrenia – which is a chemical imbalance within the brain, and something we are all susceptible to) is in fact “God”. No wonder there are so many versions of god, as there are so many version of reality among individuals. To demand that everyone subscribe to one version of “God” outside themselves is cure and unusual punishment, and for a long time it actually was.

Cognitively speaking “God” can be localized in a specific part of our brain. This “God Gene” as is has been dubbed, effects everyone in different ways. For some the impacts are stronger than others. (Probably the reason why some are believers, while others doubt.) The localization of the God gene highly impacted both scholarly and religious communities. Proof that God didn’t exist for the former, and proof that God did exist for the later. My argument: WHO CARES? Who cares if God exists or not? We are all wondering blindly on the path of life. We all have to walk our own path, and no two paths will ever be the same. We all need to subscribe to the "rules" that make sense to us, and forget about the rest.

So here I am - neither believing in Gods existence as the religious would have me believe, or disbelieving in gods existence as the scholars would have me believe. I exist in a world where I am carving my own path, yet remain open to the wisdom and suggestions of others. Which brings me to one of my new year’s resolutions: a 365-day quest, a quest of Rumi- the infamous poet of love. He preached about a love that was open to all people, all religions, and all interpretations. I found a book of interpreted poems by Rumi – 365 of them to be exact. My goal is to read a poem by Rumi each day for the next year to see where it takes me. I hope throughout this journey to find a deeper love within myself for myself, for others and for one other.

And so I begin, on the first day of 2011 with the first poem of Rumi.

Wish me luck!