March 12, 2009

Right now anyone in the world would be jealous of me. I’m lying in a hammock on a beach outside of my hotel in Wolvega, Netherlands. I can hear birds cooing and see the water rippling up onto the sand. My biggest worry…is that I forgot my sunglasses and am having to squint in the sun.

I’m finally starting to let go of the weekend I had. I’m not so disappointed with my seventh-place finish as I am with letting so many chances slip away. I skated one of my best races this year in the 1500m semifinal and was absolutely ready to medal in the final?and then a fall. But my confidence was enough to be in good spirits for Saturday.

I was feeling great considering I hadn’t raced a 500m internationally all year, and I was ready to go all out in the quarterfinal when, minutes before my race, my lane position was changed from first to third, a big shock since lane position is so important for a strong start in a four-and-a-half lap race.

“This is OK,” I thought to myself. “I just have to be super confident in my start.”

It was a valiant effort that ended me in fourth off the line and fourth in the race. Disappointed, I stepped off the ice to see that I had at least set a new personal best with a 44.429, again giving me confidence for the next day.

So this was it...the 1000m, my last chance to earn points in a final. I felt so strong in the early rounds and blessed by God to see that my semifinal had one Korean, one Chinese, a Canadian and a skater from Hong Kong. It was hard…but I could make it. The race was a dream. China started fast, and I tucked into second off of the start. The pace was fast the whole way, and with Korea behind me, I was sure I could maintain my second-place qualifying spot. And then…panic hit. With one lap to go, I heard Korea start to [gain speed].

“Protect outside,” I thought, sure that she would try to pass us both on the outside. Only to be proved horribly wrong by an easy inside move by Korea and a third-place finish by me, missing the final by hundredths of a second. I know that experience is learned through mistakes, but the most simple lessons to learn are often the hardest.

The 3000m is considered, by most skaters, a horror to race. It is 27 laps around our short track with a new format put into place this year to ensure a more exciting race, where five extra points are given to the leader with 18 laps to go. Did I mention that even though the 3K is critical for overall points, no medals are awarded and it is considered an “exhibition,” seeing as it is not a distance at the Olympics? In other words…mandatory fun.

So anyways this grueling, “fun” event was my last chance for final points. Only the top eight skaters who have final points already compete in the 3000m. Three of the competitors were known for their 500s, and with my endurance being stronger than my sprint, my chances at earning reasonable points was good. Right from the gun the Chinese took control of the race and the extra points. But after the sprint for points with 18 to go, my coach gave me the signal to go. I tried to lap the pack, but as soon as the other skaters realized the pace picked up, I soon gave up and rejoined the pack. I rested, conserved energy, and went to the lead again with six to go.

Zhou Yang from China and Min-Jung Kim from Korea passed on the outside with three to go, but if I could just hold on, then I could get third. Unfortunately, despite my efforts, Sae-Bom Shin from Korea was conserving energy while I was just holding on until the end, and she dove at the line to beat me by no more than an inch. And just to add insult to injury, I was disqualified for cross tracking at the line. Can you blame me? I was fighting so hard that my body took over and would make any move to win.

I went onto the ice for the 3000m relay refocused and ready. It took all of my mental strength to put my disappointment behind me and be strong for my team when we had a real chance to medal. But despite all my efforts, I was the one who made the mistake. On the third exchange between Kimberly Derrick and I, I didn’t set up my corner tight enough to line up our tracks. In trying to get to her to make the push, I clicked skates with another skater on the track. We made the exchange but only by a touch of hands, and we had to start from scratch to build back our speed.

My team?Jessica Smith, Kimberly Derrick, Alyson Dudek and Lana Gehring are such tremendous, determined athletes that in one cycle (six laps), we had caught back up, and I came out for the final exchange. Two laps to go. I was right on the tail of Kalyna Roberge from Canada, knowing that a bronze medal at World Championships was staring me in the face waiting for me to go get it. I set up the pass for two laps straight, but between stress, bad ice and our blazing lap times, a dive at the line was my last chance, and I missed it by .068 of a second. A heartbreak…more like a devastation…for my team and I.

So all in all I learned a lot. My mistakes are engrained in my mind, never to be made again. I know that once the grief goes away that I’ll be stronger for next year, but until then…I’m still dealing. A few more days in the hammock, and maybe I’ll be good. At least I have World Team Championships to look forward to and prepare for.  The U.S. ladies’ team hasn’t medaled at this event in as long as I can remember, and my team is ready to make history.

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