Its February in southern Russia but the evenings cool rain feels unexpectedly welcome.
Whats more, it is grounding me in the moment.
I close my eyes.Remember.
Courtesy of Meryl Davis
The small drops of water give tangibility to the night.
Something I can touch.
Something to distinguish this night from all other nights.
Brittany Evans
To distinguish it from a dream.
Oer the land of the free and the home of the brave.
The last note echoes in my ear for a moment before I hear the crowds cheers.
Meryl Davis and Charlie White as children. “You hear stories of athletes who say they knew from a young age that they wanted to be a champion. Despite appearances, that isn’t me."
Ive also been on the podium before.
Standing one step down at the 2010 VancouverOlympic Gameswith my lifetime skating partner, Charlie White.
It feels like a century ago now.
Courtesy of Meryl Davis
Its been a long, hard four years.
I hear the announcement over the loudspeaker, first in English followed by French and then Russian.
In my mind, the moment had seemed infinite.
When I imagined it, the scene felt supernatural and always out of reach.
I feel confused and slightly lost.
An unfamiliar feeling of unpreparedness.
Together, we had trained for the performances and for the highest level of competition.
Planning, preparation and readiness, thats who I am.
Thats who weve had to be since we started this journey as hopeful young skaters over 17 years ago.
As we begin the walk back to the Village, I realize, I hadnt prepared for the after.
I havent set an alarm today and have nowhere important to be.
Keep sleeping, she would say softly.
I would curl-up tightly and pull the comforter close, floating slowly back to sleep.
I turn over to grab my phone off the nightstand, moving as little as possible.
I never get to do this.Enjoy it, I think to myself.
A single tear escapes.
Unmoving, my face rests in the warmth of the damp fabric.
Hadnt I achieved what I wanted?
Hadnt I lived the dream?
I close my eyes and fall asleep.
Despite appearances, that isnt me.
or when watching a competition on TV, but I lived for progress.
Perhaps I enjoyed that, too.
I was working towards something big and that gave everything meaning.
In the old days, Id begin mornings by slipping my legs slowly off the bed,so sore.
I loved that feeling, though.
Ive always loved that feeling.
Even now, its those full days of training that feel like my real life.
By 8 A.M, Id be full speed with Charlie on the ice.
Despite the low temperature in the rink, Id break a light sweat.
The hours passed and even my sports bra and loose tank top became suffocating.
My arms and legs were heavy with fatigue, my lungs burning from the constant rush of cold air.
I struggled to regain my breath.
At times, Id catch a glimpse of stars in the corners of my eyes.
Thats when Id know it was working.Progress.
Weve been friends for nearly two decades and I rarely did.
I have absolutely no idea what I did to deserve friends who are still nice enough to ask.
Im just so tired, Id often reply in our group message.
Im sure you understand.
They also know me well enough to see right through my texts.
I was exhausted after training, but I also like being by myself and they recognized that.
I was recovering from a long day on the ice and preparing for the next.
This had been my purpose, my routine, and my comfort zone my whole life.
My friends are gathering tonight and I wish I wanted to go.
They really are amazing.
Wasnt this kind of the point of it all?
Work now, play later?
At least not for me.
Ugh, I cant, I write, slightly adjusting my usual reply.
A total lie but the best I can come up with.
Cant believe Ill miss you guys again but hopefully Ill catch you around the holidays.
Now that Im not training, I wonder what they think.
Id get dinner with my girlfriends who had been there before.
The ones who understood the training and dedication from the inside.
Marriage, career, motherhood, etc.
Everything is easy after skating, they so often said.
Puzzled, I would nod in agreement as if we were on the same page.
Now that Im here, nothing could be further from the truth.
I suppose I never fully understood why I was so dedicated to skating.
I always knew I loved it and that the sacrifice never really felt compromising.
While others looked forward to the post-competitive days of freedom, I could rarely relate.
It wasnt until I stood atop that Olympic podium that I understood.
There was nowhere left to go.
For me, working towards my dream was my freedom.
All my life Id been in the pursuit of betterment.
That was all I needed.
In some way, I always felt that the chance to chase that dream was a gift.
Indeed, there was even something productive about a lazy afternoon in bed.Stretching, recoveringand watching Netflix.
These were the respectable, logical and responsible choices to make as I embarked on my seemingly insurmountable quest.
Now, the quest is won and I can finally be normal.
There is no day of training from which to recover or forthcoming competition for which to prepare.
I have possibilities, choices and time.
I loathe all of it.How disappointing.
Athletes are creatures of habit.
We obsess, we analyze, and we grow.
It is not the rigors of the process that intimidate.
We love a challenge.
In finding new goals, a new mission, and a new sense purpose, I find myself lost.
Recently engaged, my fiance and I most enjoy our time outdoors with our 1-year-old Minisheepadoodle puppy, Bilbo.
I desperately want to grow in new and different directions.
I want to embrace new challenges, open myself up to a world of fresh possibilities.
I want to learn something unexpected.
I want to surprise myself.
This is who I want to be.
This is who I strive to be now.
