In October, the Olympic season had started for me, and knowing I had seven races that would define my last four years was a daunting but exciting task.Every bit of training and preparation I had done would be put to the test. With an ever-changing covid situation globally, I knew the competitive season would not stay set, and schedule changes were going to be made.
As expected, my racing plan changed mid-season, which brought a lot more travel. Unlike travel in a covid free world, this brought many more challenges with PCR tests to board planes, vaccination documents needing to be uploaded to various websites and government apps, not to mention the constant stress of trying to stay covid free. I managed to navigate all these new challenges while also having my best competitive season to date. The cut-off for the Olympic qualification for skeleton was the 16th of January. However, looking at the results from my competitors and how they were positioned, I was very confident around Christmas that my world ranking and results were already good enough to get me a ticket to Beijing.
Fast forward to the last race of the cut-off period in Switzerland, and I didn’t have a very good race. I made mistakes and didn’t finish as well as I could have. This meant little to me when one of my competitors, a Spanish slider who was about to become a 5-time Olympian, hugged me after the race and said, “see you in Beijing.” Now it was all real.
All of the paperwork, policies, and procedures involved in getting to China for the Olympics were wild! So much had to be done in a short period, and there were so many steps involved. Boarding the charter flight in Switzerland headed for Beijing was such a huge relief. We had made it, and it was time to shift focus once again from staying safe from covid to now competing at the Olympics.
I stayed in the Yanqing Village, a mountainous area two hours north of Beijing. Because of the nature of winter sports, not everyone could stay in the same areas due to venue needs, so the Beijing organisers had set up three villages for athletes. In Yanqing, I was there with the other sliding sports athletes (skeleton, luge, bobsleigh) and alpine skiing. I quickly got accustomed to how the village was set up, particularly because of the helpful AOC staff.
My days consisted of training at the sliding centre, team meetings, PCR tests, and of course, gorging myself in the huge dining hall. There was also a KFC and Pizza Hut in the village for people who wanted to up the grease and fat in their diet. I mean, it was -12 degrees there, so extra fat can only help, right?
Something I was really looking forward to was the Opening Ceremony. A lifelong dream was about to come true, to walk out in front of the world wearing the Australian team kit. It was going to be a lifetime highlight for sure. The experience absolutely didn’t disappoint! Walking into the Birdsnest under the huge Olympic rings wearing the team uniform with my Australian teammates was beyond words. It was an absolute honour.
The Opening Ceremony really made me feel like a part of this incredible team which carried on right through the Games. Everyone would go to the common room set up in our corner of the village to cheer on the other 42 Australians competing. No matter the results, everyone was behind all our other teammates. It was such a great environment to be around.
Growing up dreaming of competing on the biggest stage you don’t realise how much else goes on aside from just competing and doing your thing. But being together with the AUS team in our little corner of the Yanqing Village decorated in green and gold is something small that made a world of difference to me. It is a special little experience that will stick with me forever.
But being together with the AUS team in our little corner of the Yanqing Village, decorated in green and gold is something small that made a world of difference to me. It is a special little experience that will stick with me forever.
It was the Eighth of the Eighth, 2008. I was 10 years old watching the Opening Ceremony of the Beijing Summer Olympics for the first time. Fourteen years later, an Olympian myself, I’m walking down the ramp into the same legendary birds nest stadium in the Australian Team.
It was a feeling so much greater than I imagined, it felt like a dream. The Olympic Rings above us and a shockingly loud roar. There were heaps more people than I thought, given it was still covid; it was a massive spectacle. There was a great feeling of unity in the stadium and with all countries dressed up and marching, proud to represent their country, I really felt the significance the Olympics has in bringing the world together.
Imagine a holiday with some of the coolest, most inspiring people all staying at the same hotel. The evenings were filled with homemade aussie style dinners, watching our teammates compete for medals, and getting to know the rest of the legendary Aussie team.
Phil Bellingham, my three time Olympic ski team mate, called it the legends club Cross Country, and he would often ask me how to become one day a part of this club. We thought maybe a fourth Olympics. We met legends like Alisa Camplin, Dan Kowalski, and Laura Peel, and learnt that success comes in different forms, with each athlete having their own unique routines and philosophies in life and how years of hard work is balanced. It was also really cool to see such accomplished athletes and champions so humble, open and sharing.
A personal highlight was getting to meet many of the lovely volunteers from Beijing and the surrounding areas of China. It made my day each time we would wave and say “Ni hao” and get the biggest wave back, non-stop waving. I’ll never forget seeing the volunteers in the crazy minion hazmat suits at the airport, that was funny.
Apart from the holiday, we were racing, and quite a lot, every three or four days for almost three weeks, and each time preparing to compete in a place that felt something like the edge of the world. Barren, windswept and bitterly cold. I remember the moment I first walked up from the tunnel into the cross country skiing stadium, I felt like I was slapped in the face. We grew to like it. We liked the brutal aspect of it; if we are going to be racing at the highest level, we may as well do it in some pretty tough conditions, like warriors heading out to battle. For those reading that don’t know, cross country skiing is one of the traditional Winter sports as part of the first Winter Olympics in Chamonix in 1924. Competitors glide with finely tuned technique across a hilly course for distanced ranging from 1km to 50km, with the fastest skier winning gold. I was lucky to be able to wear the Olympic race bib each time and be able to give my very best, that’s all you can ask for at the Olympics. All the races were super tough, from the 15km to the team sprint to the 50km, the Chinese know how to design a hilly course. The 50km was one of the toughest races I’ve done. Seventy athletes, climbing hill after hill, for what seemed like no end, each doing our best. My favourite metaphor for life.
Becoming an Olympian for me is something I’m very proud of, and I think the reason for that is the journey that’s made it happen. To all the thousands of ugly hours, burning holes in my rollerskis, getting up in those freezing Canberra winters, me and my brother maxing out our heart rates up black mountain. Looking back on it all, I’m incredibly proud and always will be proud of the work that was put in over the years to pull on a bib and do my best, and I will always cherish the relationships formed along the way. To all the people embarking on or supporting an Olympic journey, enjoy it, it’s a very special opportunity to have.
It was a feeling so much greater than I imagined, it felt like a dream.