The ex grabbed my shirt and pulled me close. Never before had I been in a fight, outside of sports that is, but I pulled back and punched him hard. We fell to the ground and I was fortunate enough to end up on top. One of his friends jumped on my back, however, and began to punch me in the back of my head. Sean came running across the bar to even up the fight before the bouncers came to break things up. When the bouncers got there, they told us they had seen everything and kicked the two hot-headed college kids out of the bar. Sean and I had been pretty tight ever since.
Now, at Taylor’s, surrounded by drunks, I was thankful to have him with me and we bought a couple of pitchers. The four of us were all single and hoping to not go home alone, as was often the case.
That night, though, was definitely our night. Many of the guys in the bar were at the meet earlier and recognized me. They all wanted to say congratulations. Soon, word spread throughout the bar that Christian and I had just made the Olympic Team. Lots of girls came up to take pictures with us, or to ask what it felt like to be on our way to the Olympic Games.
As I was chatting with one girl I noticed several other girls behind me.
“Dude, the chicks are forming a line to talk to you,” Sean whispered to me.
I smiled. “Guess I now know how Oregon’s quarterback must feel!”
I was doing my best to be polite and get to know each girl. I had met one special girl a few months earlier when I introduced myself to her in the student athlete weight room, but never had the nerve to ask her out. It turns out when you have just made the Olympic Team you don’t have to do the asking, the girls come to you. I was fully aware that the attention I was receiving was both shallow and fleeting, but that didn’t hinder me from enjoying that night.
Two A.M. came around pretty fast, and we all left Taylor’s as they closed the doors behind us. My female friend from the weight room was still by my side and the two of us got into a cab. She told the cab driver her address, then leaned into me. When we pulled up outside her place she invited me in, so I paid the cabbie and continued to play the part of college quarterback.
The next few days at the trials were a tough mix of easy running, drinking with friends, and sleeping next to a kind, beautiful woman. Granted, this is probably my favorite way to spend a day, but maybe was not the best way to prepare to compete at the Olympic Games. By the time the Olympic Trials were over I was extremely grateful to get back to my training program.
Though I had lived in Oregon for six years I had never once spent the month of July there. During college I had usually returned to Boise, and as a pro, I traveled to Europe to race each summer. Now, with the Games just a few weeks away, I was finally able to remain in Eugene for the best month of summer. I was very glad, because I truly do not think there is a more enjoyable place in the entire world during the summer than Eugene, Oregon. The lush green river valley explodes with life as the clouds part and the sunshine pours down. Salmon and steelhead work their way up through the crystal clear rivers and everything smells fresh and alive.
During this month I fell into a perfect routine. I woke up every morning to a cup of coffee and small breakfast before I headed to Hayward Field to work out. After the run was complete I enjoyed lunch, then headed to my new lady friend’s house where we spent a few hours together before I went out to run or fish in the warm evening air. It was paradise.
For a month I enjoyed this idealistic existence, but of course, all good things must come to an end. All too soon I boarded a plane for San Jose, California where the Team USA processing would be done. Once on the San Jose State University campus I met up with Andrew and Christian. We were eager to see what awaited us at team processing.
We were initially disappointed to find a great deal of paperwork, but ecstatic to find a giant warehouse full of Olympic gear. We were given a shopping cart and told to check in at each of ten stations to receive our official Team USA items. By the time I was done making the rounds, I had two shopping carts full of clothes from Ralph Lauren and Nike. We were also given gold watches and fitted for Olympic rings. I overheard someone say that the estimated value of all we were given that day was around ten thousand dollars.
We each pulled out several pieces that we wanted and needed with us in Beijing, and shipped the rest back to Eugene. That night we tried our best to get some rest, but I struggled to sleep. I was way too excited. The next day we boarded a plane bound for Beijing, China.
12
This wasn’t my first trip to Asia, but it was my first time in China, and I was glad to have Andrew and Christian with me to share this experience. We were constantly making jokes, and stopping to take pictures along the way.
My lack of sleep from the night before was a blessing in disguise, as I was now able to sleep much of the flight from San Francisco to Beijing. When we touched down I peered out the window and saw a hot, red orb trying its best to shine through the thick brown smog that enveloped our plane. I had been told that the air quality in Beijing was bad, but this was like looking through chocolate milk.
Team USA collected their bags and we were taken through customs and then on to the athlete village. Each Olympic athlete village is different, but they are all constructed for the same purpose: to house and protect each country’s competing athletes. The athlete village in Beijing was brand new and had been built specifically for these Games. There were row upon row of apartment buildings, each decorated with flags that represented the nationality of citizens they housed. We would call these apartments home for one month (until the conclusion of the Games) at which time Beijing citizens who had purchased apartments in these buildings would move in.
We received our credentials and were set free to explore the village. It was extremely hot and humid, and I remember the hiss of the cicadas in the trees as almost deafening. Almost all Olympic athletes must share a room, and Christian and I had requested to be roommates. We found our building and settled into a tiny apartment that we shared for the duration of the Games.
When we first walked into our building we almost bumped into Michael Phelps as he was leaving for the pool. He had been all over the media leading into these Games, as he was expected to do very well here. And he did, winning eight medals in Beijing. Christian and I looked at each other wide eyed.
Our “apartment” was small and simple, with sparse furnishings similar to a college dorm room. Christian and I didn’t care about our simple accommodations much, as we planned to spend the majority of our time in the cafeteria, or by the 50 meter outdoor pool that had been built in the middle of the village.
Lounging by this pool was surreal. Like most pools, there were girls in bikinis, but these weren’t your average girls; they were the fittest, most athletically talented women on the planet. There were also people swimming laps, but they were not doing so recreationally. These were the finest swimmers in the world, gracefully pulling themselves through the water. I was interested in the prospect of getting to know some of the foreign beauties, and wondered how I could make that happen. But, I also knew I needed to remain focused on the job I was here to do, and tried to put girls out of my mind for the time being.
Opening ceremonies were that night and the next morning Christian and I were going to fly to Dalian, China, where the USA Track and Field team was based until track and field competitions began. The entire summer Olympic Games lasts almost four weeks, and track and field is usually toward the end. To make matters worse, the men’s 800 meters is usually one of the last events to be contested.
That night most members of Team USA dressed in our beautiful Ralph Lauren designed outfits and congregated outside our apartment buildings. Both men and women wore white slacks with a navy blue blazer emblazoned with the Olympic rings. The outfit was completed with a white beret. Though many people had warned me how strenuous the opening ceremonies would be, it was an event that I did not want to miss. However, five minutes in a full suit in ninety-degree weather and I was beginning to have second thoughts.
> Fortunately, Team USA was quickly escorted to the gymnastics arena where we could wait in air-conditioned coolness until it was our turn for the parade of nations. It was incredible to be in this building with all of the best athletes from the United States. While we waited, we took turns posing for pictures and taking them for our friends.
Just as we were beginning to get tired and anxious, two doors opened and several tall gentlemen with dark suits and glasses walked in. I recognized them right away as Secret Service agents, and moments later President of the United States George W. Bush walked into the gymnasium. He had several of his family members with him, including his father, the former President Bush.
Most of the athletes jumped to attention and rushed over to shake the president’s hand and get pictures with the first family. The president did his best to accommodate all the requests of Team USA, but must have felt overwhelmed as athletes crowded around him. As if to save the president just in time, the USA Basketball Team entered through the back door. One girl screamed, “Oh my God, it’s Kobe!” and all the Team USA members turned in unison.
I thought the mobbing of the president had been impressive, but the way the USA Basketball Team was being mobbed took the cake. I had never been a big fan of professional basketball, but I wasn’t going to miss a chance to get a picture with Lebron James. He and the rest of his teammates were very polite, and accommodated as many photo requests as they could before it was time for Team USA to walk into the Olympic Stadium.
I am told that the 2008 Olympic Games Opening Ceremonies were truly a sight to behold, but I really didn’t get to see much of them. There had been no live feed in the gymnasium and by the time we entered the stadium the ceremonies were almost over.
However, I can’t imagine that anything would have been able to top the sight I beheld as I entered the stadium and set foot on the track for the first time. The “Bird’s Nest,” as people had begun calling this Olympic Stadium, held more than ninety thousand spectators when it was at capacity, as it was that night. On the infield were the teams that had entered prior to Team USA, along with hundreds of drummers pounding out a rhythm in unison.
We took our time walking around the track and waving at the crowd. People around me were pushing and shoving to get near a basketball player, knowing that they were more likely to be broadcast on television back in the states if they walked next to a “star.” Christian and I walked in together and enjoyed every minute of it.
By the time we took our places on the infield the magic of the moment had started to wear off, replaced by sheer exhaustion. Most of us had completely sweated through our suits and were desperate for a seat and a drink of water. Just when I thought I was moments away from passing out, though, the lighting of the torch began and I got a jolt of adrenaline. That carried me through to the end of the ceremonies.
As soon as we could, Christian and I sprinted out of the stadium and stripped our soaking wet clothes off. We walked shirtless in the warm, still summer air back to the athlete village, where we collapsed in our beds.
Our next two weeks were spent in Dalian, China. This major seaport was just over an hour from Beijing by plane. It was still very hot and humid there, which made it difficult to train, but the air quality was better than it had been back in the Olympic Village. Coach Gags and Coach Radcliffe were with me to make sure my training went as well as possible, and I was so happy to share this journey with them.
With just three days to go before my first round, I flew back to Beijing. I was excited to return to the athlete village. However, the village I came back to was quite a different place than the village I had left. During the first few days everyone had been on his or her best behavior. The vast majority of people in the village were coaches and athletes who had spent most of the four previous years preparing for these competitions. As events were contested and athletes set free from their rigorous schedules, the village turned into one giant party.
Though it was difficult to get non-credentialed people into the village, most athletes at some point left to attend one of the parties sponsored by a beer company, and then stumbled back into the village late at night. I desperately wanted to go out with them, but I wanted even more to get decent rest so I could compete at the top of my abilities. I went to bed early each night and wore earplugs.
As the day of my first round approached, I began to get nervous. Coach Sam and my family had flown in from the states and I spent as much time with them as possible to take my mind off the race. Christian and I explored Tiananmen Square and frequented the Nike hospitality suite that was located across the street from this famous Chinese attraction.
I woke up on the morning of August 20, 2008 and went through my usual pre-race routine. I had coffee, went for a walk, ate a small breakfast, and showered. Then I loaded my backpack with everything I might need for the competition and caught one of the buses that left every fifteen minutes to shuttle athletes to and from the track.
I had drawn a decent first heat and knew that if I executed my race plan I should be able to finish in the top three and advance to the semi-finals. I jogged around the warm-up track visualizing how the race would play out. Coach Sam and Coach Gags were forced to wait outside the track, as they had not been given official Team USA coaches passes. These passes instead went to the personal coaches of “serious” medal contenders and the glorified babysitters who were selected as official Team USA coaches.
Just before the race, I jogged to the fence to get some last minute words of wisdom from Gags.
“Stay close to the front, you hear me?” he said looking me dead in the eyes. I nodded and he said, “Good luck,” as I shook his hand.
Coach Sam gave me a fist bump through the fence and a “Love ya, brother.”
I turned and jogged up to the call room where I took a seat next to my competitors. These preliminary heats are not particularly exciting, as they rarely eliminate any real medal contenders. Given this fact, the stadium was only half full. I was grateful to have a relatively quiet stadium, and knew that if it had been like the night of the opening ceremonies, I would have had real trouble controlling my nerves.
We were led out to our lanes and asked to strip down to our race attire. I tried to imagine I was back home in Eugene, doing what I always tried to do: win in front of my home crowd. This mentality worked and I went on to win my very first Olympic race in a somewhat uneventful first round. I tried to keep things in perspective and remind myself that I had a long way to go to win a medal, but allowed myself to revel in pride and joy at crossing that finish line in first place for Team USA. Doing so earned me a spot in the semi-finals the following night. Christian and Andrew had not been so fortunate and were eliminated in round one. I was now Team USA’s only hope for a medal in the men’s 800 meters.
The semi-finals in my event were extremely brutal, as the field was narrowed from twenty-four to just eight finalists. To achieve this, three races of eight competitors were pitted against one another with only the top two in each race advancing. The two fastest men who did not place in the top two of their heat filled the last two finalist spots. The heats were drawn evenly, so that each race was guaranteed to have several men who all deserved to be in the finals. But, at almost every World and Olympic Championships I had watched, these semi-finals had managed to eliminate at least one of the favorites.
I was not a favorite by any means, but I also did not want to be eliminated in the semis. I returned to the athlete village after the first round and spent the entire day in bed relaxing and reading, trying to let my legs recover from the day’s earlier efforts. The semis would take place the following evening, so I had ample time to recover.
The next day was torture. I woke up early and realized I had twelve hours to kill before my next race. Just as it had been at the Olympic Trials, dealing with the anticipation proved to be as much of a challenge as the competition itself. I spent the day chatting with Christian, hanging out in the cafeteria, and lying in bed. The hours drag
ged on.
Most of our races as professionals take place at night, so I was used to this. In fact, the evening time slot helped me get into the right frame of mind, as it made this race feel like something I was used to. When it was finally time to go to the track, once again I felt ready, both physically and mentally.
Again, my coaches were not permitted inside the warm up area so I was forced to run laps with them watching from 30 meters away. Every few minutes I stopped to check in with them to see what they had to say. Gags looked nervous, and reminded me to stay out of trouble. “Be close to the front with 100 meters to go,” he reminded me again. Both coaches wished me luck, and with that I was off to the call room.
Inside, I sat down and took a good look at my seven competitors. On paper I wasn’t expected to make it out of this round, but what the paper said had never stopped me from winning races before. When we were led onto the track I kept my head down and stared at the rubber in front of me. I was afraid to look up into the stands and see ninety thousand people staring down at us. I was certain that doing so would paralyze me with nervousness.
I again tried to imagine that I was at Hayward Field, racing in front of my home crowd. I imagined that everyone in the stadium wanted me to win, and wanted me to put on a show for them.
When the gun went off I intended to do just that. I fought for space and positioned myself well the first lap. The first lap of 53 seconds wasn’t terribly fast, three seconds slower than at the Olympic Trials, and I knew I would need perfect positioning in the second lap to out kick everyone. Coming down the backstretch for the second and ultimate time, I could see that everyone else had the same idea. We all pushed and shoved, jockeying for position. As the final curve approached I knew that I absolutely had to beat everyone to the corner. If I couldn’t get to the rail by the end of the straight away I would be forced to run the last turn in lane three. Doing so would add several meters to the length of my race.
Life Outside the Oval Office: The Track Less Traveled Page 13