What in the World?

Here in the Bay Area we got a shelter-in-place order effective immediately and for the next three weeks.

I went to bed that night uneasily.

I woke up heavy hearted.

Because I have a woman in my life as close if not closer to me than my own mother whose immune system is compromised. Adhering to the shelter-in-place order, for me is not a question.

To save her life.

To save any life.

Edwards Stadium is padlocked.

My gym closed.

My meets cancelled.

USATF is “monitoring the situation”

The IOC says “it’s too soon to be drastic. Do the best you can.”

And from where I sit the entire thing…wondering about the trials, wondering about the Games, although a futile exercise, is also a very seductive abyss to fall into.

And I was flirting at the event horizon of this black hole when Chuck says to me, “you’ve earned the right to train.

And so we’ll figure it out.” 

And he reminded me of how much I had to do to get here.

Countless trips to Colorado Springs to stay at the Olympic Training Center as a patient of UC Memorial Hospital for Iron Infusions.

Nearly dying in November.

Flying back to Colorado and demanding that someone, anyone, take a second, listen to what I’m saying through exhausted tears, and save my got damn life.

Emergency surgery to remove a tumor from my uterus I only just learned existed four hours before.

More iron infusions.

More hospital visits.

More tests.

Only to find out that I wasnt actually getting better. My iron and hemoglobin levels still dangerously low.

Back to the hospital…

Wrestling with the idea of a doctor recommended blood transfusion that I had to wait to receive until approved by IAAF, WADA, and USADA.

Flying back to Colorado on Super bowl Sunday, missing my own Superbowl Party, in order to get the transfusion I needed before the permission granted to me “expired” all to get back on the track.

Catch that? 

I was out of commission. From November to February…

Workouts for me before then consisted of me barely getting through the warm up, sprint drills, reps of sprints or jumps, elevated heart rate, collapsing at some point on the track, gathering myself, falling into deep sleeps, and waking exhausted. Repeat.

And so we made the call to suspend my training, because it wasn’t worth dying for.

Which made me come face to face with the “what’s next” question that plagues us all as we begin to see how one chapter of our lives may be coming to a close before we understand fully how the next one begins.

I needed time that I didn’t have.

I wandered through my home for weeks knowing that if I wanted to I could actually do anything else.

But deep down knowing I just wanted to do this one thing, once more.

And so we got me back. Because I’m incredibly hard to kill.

It’s taken 6.30am fasted cardio sessions, it’s taken long runs, it’s taken doing more work in a day than I did when I thought I was “healthy” before.

It’s taken getting really familar with how my body responds to certain foods. To give it what it needs, to listen to exactly what it’s telling me.

It took placing my ego on the shelf, watching indoor season unfold knowing I wouldn’t and couldnt compete at that level yet. 

Seeing the stopwatch or Freelap readings at training sessions and talking myself back off the ledge, “this is where you start, you’re getting back, you’ll get stronger, you’ll get faster don’t beat yourself up. You’re healing.”

Dreading the meets I had on my schedule this month because the thought of stepping out there and really KNOWING how much I’ve lost is terrifying.

But… I got here.

Meaning that at FIRST I was worried about training.

NOW I’m worried about competing.

That’s a huge, important shift, that I had hardly even noticed.

And so again, like athletes around the world, we are coming to terms with what this means for us and our preparations…

And how, in the face of a defiant IOC insistent that nothing will change although everything has changed, we, the athletes, the product, the talent are left wondering how we can exercise that same resolve.

And although I am the reigning Olympic Champion in not one but two events, I don’t have qualifying marks after battling injury and health issues over the last season.

No competitions means no opportunity to get those marks. And naturally, I’m concerned about THAT variable of this equation.

Unsurprisngly, the idea of being left at home because the Trials and Games want to go forward as scheduled without taking the disruption to qualifiying for them into account, would break my heart.

BUT… That’s not within my control. 

I have worked relentlessly to even put myself in this position where I’m worried about competing rather than dying now.

I give myself a gold medal for pulling THAT off.

But in the meantime, all you can do is all you can do.

And there’s a lot you can do.

And if you need ideas, I got you.

But there’s something I want to remind athletes NOT worried about qualifying for the Olympic Trials, or the Olympic Games because there are a lot more of you than there are of us…

What may feel like the most disruptive, disappointing thing to happen in your sports life to date is actually something a lot of us on the elite level don’t ever get:

The gift of time.

Right now, if I were you I’d be figuring out how to use this time to eradicate weaknesses and reinforce strength.

Do you have a weak core? You’ve got the time to strengthen it.

Do you eat like shit? You’ve got the time to wean off the junk and get right. Maybe it’s time to detox, don’t buy it…can’t eat it. Get clean.

Struggle with backside mechanics? Strengthen your hips, jump rope with high knees.

Not mentally tough? Now is the time. Start a meditation or visualization practice.

You don’t need a track for that and you don’t need a gym.

You don’t need a competition.

Competitions are merely showcases of your preparation.

So go ahead, prepare. In all the ways that you can.

Fight for it, work for it. Because when this ends, and it will…

You’ll be ready, and you will have earned it.