Love vs. Hate

Passion- it’s such a peculiar word. According to Webster’s dictionary online it’s a noun that means:

1. Any powerful or compelling emotion or feeling; as love or hate.

The definition continues further but that’s not applicable to this blog. You can Google it if you feel so inclined. But what is pertinent is love and hate.

This ying and yang is the quintessential paradox to an athlete’s life. Passion is what drives us to success. Passion is what drives us mad.

What is loved: the satisfaction of winning. It’s plain and simple that an athlete strives for gold and not much less. The feeling of power as you PR a lift. The surprise of the clock after a run when you thought it sucked. The feeling you get when you first pull on a race suit and realize- it’s game on. That same feeling of adrenaline that pumps through your body, makes you sweat and tingle, and puts your mind on a completely different level. The recognition for our accomplishments and efforts.

What is hated: the feeling of an off-race. 2^nd place or 4^th place. The third week of a 3-week lifting cycle- when 10 pounds feels like 10,000. Being fooled by the clock after a run where you thought it was the ride of your life. The uncomfortable jitters you get before the first race because everything is new and anything can happen. The feeling of the unknown and questioning yourself- did you do enough reps? What if you were one kilo heavier? What if you pulled 10 more starts? The sacrifices you make in being away from your family and friends. Airports. International charges on your credit card. Long days spent driving from one small town to the next. Making people understand that living in Europe for 6 months doesn’t mean there’s time to play. Being defined by our sport.

Though it looks like the negative list may outweigh the positives the grass is always greener on the other side. Ask any athlete what their life would be like without their sport and I’m not sure you would get a completely accurate answer. This particularly applies to Luge athletes.

As a senior in high school you’re supposed to make the huge decision about the rest of your life… what college are you going to? What major are you going to pursue? What do you want to be when you grow up? Well push those types of decisions up the timeline about 4 years, add in the college savings account (minus the degree because you’re forgoing that due to time restraints) and make sure that everyone in the family is on board with this LIFE decision because no one can do this alone.

While starting this Preston Griffall, US National Team Member just happened to hop on Skype and I wanted to know what his loves and hates were. He loves the racing, he loves the travelling, and he loves being pushed physically and mentally. He hates sacrificing the small things in life. He hates leaving his family and friends for months upon end. He hates knowing that every year that passes he isn’t getting any younger and those life milestones of college, jobs, girlfriends, marriage, kids, buying a house, etc… are still being put on hold.

We all sacrifice. It’s a matter of what you choose to sacrifice for. I retired because I didn’t want to put those life milestones on hold any longer. I did what I set out to do- make the Olympics. Do I miss it? I miss the people. I miss the travelling. I miss the simplistic life I led of sleep, train, eat, train, work, sleep, and repeat.

The key to happiness I’ve found though is figuring out what you’re willing to compromise less on. Make a choice, and own it. You may hate aspects but nothing is perfect. You create your perfect ying and yang.

"Capturing the Power" While Riding the Wave

Have you ever logged into Facebook and seen the SAME exact post by the SAME exact person 2 or 3 times in a row because they’ve linked their multiple accounts to post one status? I just got finished reading a blog on http://www.teamusa.org/ by a fellow retiree of mine; Steve Mesler, 3-time Olympian. I have always admired this man for his athleticism but more keenly his ability to pull his thoughts from his head and put them onto paper, which makes me think of a quote my boss said the other day “Megan, we are in marketing. We take nothing and make it into something.” Maybe what I'm feeling towards Steve is a bit more jealousy than it is admiration.

He has mastered this whole phenomenon of “Social Media.” Between his posts on the TeamUSA website and his former teammate Steve Holcomb’s, Katie Uhleander, Chris Plys, Erin Hamlin, and many more status updates, I am utterly perplexed as to HOW they’ve gotten to where they are in the communication world. MySpace, Twitter, blogs, Facebook, LinkedIn, Google Chat, Google+… what am I missing? Skype? YouTube channels? Who even knows anymore?

When it comes to social media I am the opposite of savvy; and maybe that is what hinders me. I shy away because I’m intimidated. However I will rationalize! Call me a tad bit traditional but I prefer the face-to-face conversations. I’m not quite sure what gives me the social anxiety but when someone introduces themselves then proceeds to act like they know me, my family, my career, what I did last night, and my future… I’m a bit perplexed and develop social anxiety equivalent to what some would call a “level five clinger.”

I damn Google. This is my personal opinion and after speaking with Emily and Erin Hamlin tonight both sides to the argument were equally validated. If not for social media, winter athletes (ESPECIALLY LUGE) would be the forgotten ones. Friendships that have evolved due to the fact that we can now Facebook one another when we’re in the general vicinity [and have the random catch-up session] wouldn’t happen.

But there’s also a rational that has to be brought to the table along with moral standard where you DO NOT share your entire day’s activities with the world. God only knows, I don’t want your itinerary (i.e. “Going to the grocery store” or “random night tonight”) to be blowing up my Blackberry. But I also think that retreating into the black hole of what we athletes affectionately call the “BioDome” aka the training center, and this mysterious place on earth called Lake Placid, isn’t healthy. We need to stay connected and share our stories… but to what degree?

I spent the last year in what I like to call, therapy. For me, that was giving tours to the guests of the Utah Olympic Park in Park City, UT. When I first started, I remembered how for years I was drilled through media training to not use the word “DANGEROUS” because it would give the wrong connotation to our sport. But after 2010 games… how does the public perceive us as anything but dangerous?

This question doesn’t apply to specifically the sport of Luge. What about the mass amounts of people who believe that Skeleton is more dangerous than Luge (and yes, I am bias. So YES I proceeded to tell them otherwise!) or those US bobsled athletes who crashed in 4-man? What was the mix-zone like for them in 2010 post-Luge race?

Don’t get me wrong about the direction that our communication and social media has taken. I am a helpless Facebook stalker when I want to be. But the question is; without it, where would we be? And without it, how would I be able to stay in touch with my sister, family, best friends, sponsors, coaches, fans…YOU name it? It’s a part of our culture whether I like to admit it or not. I am still utterly perplexed by it. Hence…this blog.

Life Goes On

When I was younger, my Dad made a comment that has just stuck with me... "Well I'm not growing up but I sure am growing out!" (as he laughs at himself.) The daughter in me rolls my eyes and makes some snide comment like "Ugh, whatever. That's so stupid, you're old. It's what happens," Simultaneously vowing to myself to NEVER let that happen to me...

For twelve years of my life I worked out a minimum of five days a week for at least 4 hours total. I was in my own kind of "Biggest Loser" camp- but not. I wasn't trying to lose weight- I was trying to gain pure muscle (imagine me saying that in my deep "Manly Man" voice with a little AARR at the end). That set my standards for being in shape pretty high. So what I'm trying to say is that outside of my current reality, I had NO idea how hard it was to stay in shape.

It's been almost one year since I've retired from Luge. And this is what I've noticed... my arms still look huge. I still get comments on the size of my thighs (which have no correlation to sliding, that's a gift from my parents). I think my hip bones are permanently shifted (from carrying my sled) so that my right one sits higher than my left. I can now wear some jackets because I don't have the back of a body builder. Butseriously, what the hell is this jiggle?

I feel fat in places I didn't know existed; in the crease of my elbow, right under my arm pit, around the backs of my knees. And I thought fat was supposed to feel squishy? Like a nice little pillow! No? Mine makes my muscles feel like I can't stretch anymore. Almost like there's a piece of cardboard stuck between my hamstring and my calf whenever I squat down.

I'm not saying that I hate my body, in fact I've grown to love certain things. No matter who you are though the grass always seems greener on the other side in some respect; unless you're playing mind games and lying in order to convince yourself- which I've been known to do on occasion. It's not bad! It's just DIFFERENT.

I voiced some of my concerns to my girlfriends who laughed at me, naturally. But the comment that stuck out to me was "WOW! you mean you're feeling "normal"' whatever the hell that means? I thought I had an idea, but quickly discovered I was being extremely naive.

Here's what I've deduced this whole thing to. I'm a control freak, except for when it comes to food and wine (again, another great gift I received from my parents!) But for years, I also ate like I was going to burn 5000 calories a day and I hate to admit it but now-a-days typing and staring at a computer just doesn't quite get me to 5000. At the end of the day all I want to do is sit on my couch, watch the news, and drink wine while eating crackers- when at the end of the day I should hop my squishy bum on a bike and pedal my little heart away!

Steve Holcomb tweeted/facebooked/whatever other social media he's got going that "Sweat is just fat crying" and it gave me 1. a ridiculous visual in my head and 2. incentive to make my fat cry. So like one of Lulu Lemon's mantra's I am pledging to myself to "sweat once a day" from here on out. Who's with me?

It Doesn't Get Easier

I thought that by retiring I would eliminate one stressor in my life. I would be able to sit back and finally be able to enjoy watching sliding. But as I sit here on my couch sipping coffee, sending e-mails and texts back and forth, attempting to Skye my cousin, reading the Team USA press release about a close friend of mine (http://skiing.teamusa.org/news/2011/03/03/the-lone-bahrke/41220?ngb_id=3); NBC sports on the television in the background, and I'm crying.

Emily won silver today in Lake Placid at the 2011 National Championships held at Mt. Van Hovenberg. My family is there along with a group of extremely enthusiastic and supportive friends loudly cheering on mature comment pertaining to my homesickness; "i also know that no matter where you are in the world you're going to feel like you're missing out on something because of who you are and who you know. so its just a matter of who you want to miss out on less. it sucks, but its the downside to having so many friends."

I've finally been given a taste this season as to what it was like for my family and friends who supported me for so long; waiting in anticipation for final results, feeling the joy and relief when the time sheets finally appear and Emily's name is near the top, but also the extreme sorrow you feel when expectations haven't been met and you can hear the disappointment. That's the hardest emotion to deal with hands down!

I realize that things will not get easier from here on out as the next Oympic-quad begins and the Russian Games start creeping closer; so I've decided to start blogging on Emily's behalf. One because I need it as therapy to write out these frustrations but also because Emily has started having some AH ha! moments of her own... maybe not as ridiculous as my magical underwear! But ones that are noteworthy in themselves.