Another Olympics has come and gone. I always look forward to an Olympic year, particularly the Summer Olympics. Not just because television can be extremely boring during the summer months, but because the Olympics represents my passions for competition, sports and writing.
I’ve experienced competition, sports and writing on several different levels. In my younger years, I was a competitive swimmer. The daughter of a marina owner, living on the Cedar River across the street from a city swimming pool, my parents were insistent I learn to swim at an early age. I seemed to take to the water easily.
One summer at the age of 10, I walked across the street to see why there was activity going on at the pool so early in the morning. It turned out to be practice for the swim team. The coach/lifeguard asked why don’t I join them? I ran home, asked my mom, put on my swim suit, and for the next 10 years swimming was my life. I swam for my neighborhood pool against the other city and club teams.
I swam for the city’s AAU team against other Iowa AAU teams, and in the winters, I swam for the Y. When I reached high school, there wasn’t a girls’ team sponsored until my senior year, so I participated in synchronized swimming, also. That’s harder than it looks!
Then it was off to college. I hadn’t planned on swimming for the college team. This was before scholarships were offered for women. However, I was talked into participating by other team members. My freshman year became my final year of competitive swimming. The women’s team couldn’t get access to the pool until late evening hours, we had to buy our own swim suits, and we rode to away meets in vans. Thank heavens for Title IX, the law enacted in the ‘70s providing equal educational access for women. The ruling remains controversial to this day in some circles.
I quit after 10 years. I was burned out from year-round, often two-a-day practices. When it’s no longer fun, it’s time to call it quits. Also, I suffered from a severe swimmers ear (inner ear) infection (how many of those did I have over 10 years!) two weeks before the collegiate national meet. I felt as if someone was trying to tell me something. I marvel at how Olympic-level athletes have dedicated their lives to the Olympic dream.
I never was Olympic material. I had my fair share of success at the local and state levels. I have a trophy case built by my grandfather full of medals, ribbons and trophies that I still proudly display in our home’s recreation room.
My former job as the University of Northern Iowa’s Assistant Athletics Director for Media Relations/Sports Information Director blended my love for sports and writing. The position also afforded me the opportunity to work at the 1984 Summer Olympics in Los Angeles and the 1987 Pan American Games hosted by Indianapolis. In LA, I was a member of the Archery and Modern Pentathlon venues press corps. I was the assistant venue press chief for yachting at the Pan Am games.
Today, I get my Olympic fix every few years via the television. I religiously watch the Olympic swimming trials. How much faster can a human go through the water? During the actual event, winter or summer, I wear one of my prized Olympic pins that I got in Los Angeles.
I get the same feelings watching it all from my living room sofa. The thrill of victory, the agony of defeat, the pride in the USA athletes. I remember fondly my own glory days and the pride I took in my own accomplishments. If only I were a kid again!
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