The road to Athens…
Our Olympic dream started in the summer of 2003. We competed at the World Championships with the 4x100 relay team and ended 12th in the competition. This resulted in a nomination for the Olympics and our road to Athens began.
We received the A-status from the NOC*NSF and were able to quit our jobs and become professional athletes. After 15 years of combining work and study with sports I could finally totally focus on track!
Because we were now employees of the NOC, a certain commitment was expected. We had to reschedule our own program in order to be able to train together every week. This was not always easy. The basic thing to be able to run a fast relay is four individual fast sprinters. And when you have to change your program and are not able to train the way you want to, you might not be getting the best out of yourself.
I had a bit of a problem with the winter training. We trained indoors and the accommodation was small and too crowded. And we never seemed to be training together, we were all there at the same time but did our own thing.
In January 2004 we went to Stellenbosch, South Africa. This was a great experience. Not only because we did so much training there, but also because we had so much fun! Although we didn't have a lot of time to go sight seeing, we did visit some wineries!!! And the group became really tight, I think that is a necessity when you want to run the perfect race.
I let the indoor season pass that year, my focus was on Athens. Normally there are standards that you have to reach to be admitted to a competition like the WC, EC or Olympics. But things were different for Athens. Only 16 countries were allowed to compete. And at the start of the summer we were 19th on the world ranking list.
A summer of stress and constantly checking the internet followed. One of the hardest things for me was the possibility that we ran a very fast time, maybe even a Dutch record, but still wouldn't be going to Athens. But we were able to keep our cool and do a bit better in every race. Our last relay race was in Madrid on the 19th of July and we had to improve to stay in the top 16.
I think I slept two hours maximum the night before the race. To make things worse, it was an evening competition, so we had a whole day to kill. And you just don't go shopping on a day like that, not even when you're in Madrid. I spend most of my time on the toilet, in bed, jumping around in my room and listening to music. Eating was not an option! It was a huge relief when we finally took the bus to the track and started our warm up.
The stadium was filled with a roaring crowd, the temperature was good and the track was fast. It had to be our evening! And it was! We ran our fastest time of the year and were getting closer and closer to Athens. The only downside of the evening was that Joan (our first and fastest runner) had injured her foot during the warm up. She was able to race, after I had taped up her foot, but she was in a lot of pain. The closing date of the relay entries was on the 20th of July, and we were now in 14th place.
The relieving words came a few days later: we were going to the Olympics.
It was a strange thing, because we had been so focused all summer on being able to participate in Athens. That had become a goal on itself. And when we reached that goal, I had a bit of a problem to reset.
We went to Grosseto (Italy) for the last preparations. I had a really hard time over there. Our hotel was in the middle of nowhere, nothing to do, it was too hot to be outside and the food was really really bad. One of the worst thing was that we had to watch the opening ceremony on television. Because the relay is always one of the last numbers on the program the KNAU had decided that it would be best to stay in Italy until about a week before our race.
Joan her foot wasn't getting better. She couldn't run but was doing a lot weight training and walking exercises. She had to ice her foot everyday and got injections and massages. Off course we were getting a bit worried about it, but I myself pushed that feeling away and tried to stay focused on training and the race. If we replaced Joan for another girl, we would lose 7 tens of a second, so for me, that wasn't an option. And she had always said that she would race, no matter what.
We saw Peter win, on television, we saw Inge win, on television… And we had to miss the victory ceremonies because the Italian television didn't broadcast them.
When we finally arrived in Athens, most of the athletes had already finished their competition. There was a lot of partying going on, while we were trying to keep our "tunnel vision". I was amazed by the lack of togetherness of the Dutch team. We had to wear orange day and night, so it wasn't hard to pick out the Dutchies. But for some people that was still no reason to say "hi" or sit together at a dinner table.
The restaurant was huge. Food from all over the world, for all diets you can think of and we even had our own Mc Donalds. We had to stick to the rice and pasta until after the race, but were planning on a feast after that!
And then, finally, it was our time to race. I felt pretty good the whole day. Eating was a bit of a problem, but after Madrid I could handle almost everything. Joan had been able to join us the last training and the exchange between her and Jacqueline had gone smoothly.
We went to the first callroom and were all so excited and eager. They checked our bags, even asked for pins (the small orange clogs were a real collectors item) and then we were brought to the second call room. This was when I got a bit nervous. I had to go to the toilet and when I came back I saw that everyone was already wearing their spikes. But we had heaps of time, so there was no need to stress.
I remember stepping on the track, looking around and getting this great feeling. A real kick or a rush. Thousands of people, a lot from Holland, and they were all cheering and shouting. Before the race I had decided not to wave at anyone, because I had to focus on my race and keep cool. But I forgot all about that and started waving at people like a maniac!
I was the fourth runner of the team, so I was standing at the end of the second bend. After one more short sprint, I put my mark on the track, took of my training suit and waited for the start. I was tense and nervous, but in a good, confident way. Joan had a very good start, but I couldn't really see the rest of her race properly. What I did see was that there was too much space between here and Jacqueline to be able to pass the baton. My brain couldn't process what I was seeing at first. This couldn't be happening. My second thought was that something had gone wrong, so we had to try again. And then I knew that it was over, and the tears came. I walked over to Pascal, our third runner and we just stood there for a while. Not understanding, mad, sad.
Unfortunately, we couldn't stay on the track. I wanted to, because I knew things would even become more real when we left. The press was waiting! No way around them. So we walked to the finish line, stood there with the other girls (Joan crying, Jacqueline in shock) and went up to the waiting reporters. I was able to pass the Studio Sport camera but had less luck with the guys from the radio and newspapers. I had an interview with "langs de lijn", now known as the "kut interview" because of my language. I stayed pretty calm and was able to say some sensible things, until I saw my coach. That's when I totally broke down and cried, cried and cried.
We walked back to the warm up track, turned on our mobiles and waited for the sms messages to come. I called my parents and best friend, but no one really knew what to say. Because I hadn't run I still had a lot of adrenaline in my body that I couldn't lose. Throwing with my spikes, shouting and more crying didn't really help. I can't remember how long we stayed there, but we ended up on the bus back to the village.
We went to the restaurant but no one was in the mood for the burgers we'd been looking forward to all week. I couldn't eat at all. Couldn't stop the tears from coming. That night we sat together in our room. Talking, shouting, crying, even laughing because of my cynic jokes. No one was blaming Joan or Jacqueline, because they hadn't made a mistake. Joan just hadn't had enough training to go full speed for a hundred meters. And Jacqueline was in top shape so there was no way Joan was going to get to her if she was a tiny bit slower than usual. It sort of felt good to just sit there with my teammates and try to loose that shitty feeling we all had.
I did get some sleep, but the second I woke up that feeling was there again. I'm not sure how I can describe it. Sadness and still a bit of disbelief, an empty feeling. No one wanted to leave the apartment, but we had to get some food. So we went to the restaurant, where most of the Dutch team avoided us. After breakfast I went to the internet room to read what the newspapers had written. That didn't make me feel any better. We went to the stadium in the evening to see "our guys" fail at the last exchange. Our coach was sitting behind me but I was too scared to look back and see his reaction.
I didn't want to go to the warm up track and talk to the boys, I was too depressed myself. Instead, Pascal, Joan an I went to the Heineken House. I think I got drunk after one glass of wine. I got really pissed after a couple more. We had a great evening. We were dancing and jumping around and for the first time we were able to forget about the race, for a little while.
Before I knew it The Games were over and we were sitting on a plane back home. I've had to tell my story about a thousand times, but it stopped hurting as much as it did the days after the race. I've heard all the jokes, and joke about it myself, I think that's the best way to deal with it. We can't change the result so we'll have to deal with it. It still hurts and probably always will, but I am proud of what we achieved with the team that summer.
I didn't train for a couple of weeks, partied a lot, but never thought about quitting track or the relay team. Because of what happened I got extra motivated to show that we can do it and am prepared to train as hard as I can to give it another go.
