It’s a brutal sport
One one-hundredth. Faster than you can snap your fingers. Faster than you can start and stop a stopwatch (even if you cheat and hit the button against your knee instead of using your thumb). Faster than you can blink your eye. That’s what I missed the Olympic Team by.
But as I looked up at the clock, trying to figure out what exactly had happened, that hundredth might as well have been a year. Because no matter how close I was to second place, the cold reality was that I was third. Third - we might as well call it first loser since first and second go on to the games and third through infinity watch from their couch. There is actually a medal for third place, if you can believe it. I found it nestled amongst my warm-ups after the race. A small consolation for smashed dreams.
The rest of the night was like a dream. Amanda pulled me over to hug me before we even got out of the pool, telling me that it was no time for tears and that I was awesome. Her support and my pride got me off the deck with at least a semblance of dignity.
But all I really wanted to do was get away. Wake up. Rewind my life and try again. I made it down the stairs from the pool trying to make good my escape but to add insult to injury found myself signing off on drug testing papers.
My coach, Lea, found me just before I made it up the stairs to the warm-down tank. I’m not even sure why I was going there since pretty much everything I had been working for had just ended. That’s just where I always went after I was done racing.
Like a sleepwalker, my warm-ups fell out of my hands and she too was hugging me in sadness. But a hug wasn’t going to take my sadness away. And even more than my own self-pity, I felt ashamed that I had taken up so much of her time and energy on a failed endeavor.
A short warm down, a run through drug testing, and it was time to complete my escape. My fiancé, Greg, was going to get me out of there but first I actually had to make it out the door. You would think that, the results of the evening, a tear-stained face, and the clearly spoken words of, “This is not a good time,” would have kept the autograph hunters off me. But no, they hounded me out the door and onto the sidewalk.
Back at Greg’s hotel I tried to digest the events of the night. All I wanted to do was fall asleep and let the pain of disappointed dreams fade into oblivion. But nothing hurts so badly as the loss of the thing you want most. I’d never played it safe with this dream and now I was paying the price.
I’d felt this loss before. Back when I was in the final round of the Rhodes Scholarship, one of four called back for second interviews but not one of the two named. Still, tonight it felt so much worse. No matter how tired I was, the minute I relaxed my brain the whole disaster of an evening came rushing back at me.
Today, despair lies on me like an avalanche. I still have some decisions to make but they are important ones, not to be made with emotion. I have to decide if I am going to still swim the 200, an event that, for me, has not been particularly successful of late. And then there are decisions beyond that. Fortunately, I am surrounded by people who care about me.
July 2nd, 2008 at 9:57 am
i was pulling for you the whole time… you must have been devastated when you looked at the scoreboard. You should definitely swim the 200. Who knows? you may make the team in that event… i wish you the best in the rest of your swimming career!
July 2nd, 2008 at 9:57 am
Tara–Don’t give up. It was heartbreaking to see you miss it by such a small margin, but at least you know you gave it your best. I don’t know you, but I read your blog and I think you have a bright future Olympics or no Olympics. Please stay in for the 200–you never know what will happen.
July 2nd, 2008 at 2:36 pm
This is a great post.
You’re obviously a lot more than just a swimmer, and even so, you’re already an Olympian. I can’t imagine how big .01 is looming for you right now, but I’m sure that before long it will look exactly as small as it is.
All the best.
July 2nd, 2008 at 4:47 pm
Tara,
Whatever your next moves are you’ve done so much for this sport and your accomplishments speak for themselves. Through swimming and education your positivity and hard work shine through.
Don’t think you’ve let anyone down, be it your coach, fans, family, or even yourself.
You put in the effort and did your best. That’s all you can ask of yourself.
I’ve read your blogs from the beginning and thank you for sharing a bit of your life.
As Summer Sanders said when Janet Evans didn’t make the 1996 team, “This is not a failure, it’s a disappointment.”
Give yourself time to grieve and then shake it off, pick yourself up and go out there and kick a$$ in whatever comes next. Your life awaits you.
Raquel
July 2nd, 2008 at 5:30 pm
Tara,
You are a champ! Stay focused, the 200 awaits, the struggle continues. The game has rules, someone may break one. Thank you for sharing a small part of your world with us.
“Success is not measured by what you accomplish, but by the opposition you have encountered, and the courage with which you have maintained the struggle against overwhelming odds.”
Orison Swett Marden
For you, there’s no consolation, but there will always be pride! Who knows, years from now someone will give YOU a photobook filled with memories.
GO,GO,GO!!
July 2nd, 2008 at 9:19 pm
Hey Tara,
You probably don’t realize the people who’ve known you throughout your life who are SO proud of both you and Dana and follow your many successes with pride and admiration. Mrs. Tucker died recently (she was in her 90s) and I went to her home, in the piano room she had newspaper clippings of you posted on the wall. You’ve acheived so much already I can’t wait to see what you Kirk girls do next.
Beth Malley Michaelson
ps I personally hope you go for the 200
July 3rd, 2008 at 7:29 am
Tara,
don’t give up. You owe it to yourself to swim the 200, to be there, after all the hard work, no matter what happens. I am so sorry about the .01 loss, it must hurt so much. I always hear that its this type of experience that gives you strength and wisdom, but that’s not much consolation now. I do think it says so much more about who we are how we handle the hard experiences, not the triumphs; that is why I hope you can hold your head up high, be so proud of the amazing things you have done, and go out there and give it your all on the 200.
July 3rd, 2008 at 12:01 pm
Hi Tara,
I am a former swimmer, once deeply engrossed in the sport, but now not so much. I too can contest to the “brutality” of the sport. *Sigh* Athletics are a painful thing to be a part of, physically, but more so emotionally.
I was casually looking at the US Olympic Trials results this week. I’ve followed your career in some shape or form since your Stanford days, whether it be spotting you on pages of results or actually seeing you swim (2004 SC World Championship!). I was disappointed to see what happened to you in the 100 LCM Breaststroke. Unfortunately, so many people are missing out on what could have been a reality for them and that makes me sad inside for them. I saw that you swam the 200 Breaststroke today, which was awesome. I’m sure you were hoping for better, but to have tried speaks volumes by itself.
I know things did not work out the way you had hoped, planned, dreamed, or wanted, but I hope that you don’t let this event shortchange all that you have accomplished over your career. One thing that you should be esp. proud of is the fact that you transitioned from being an awesome SC swimming to an amazing LC swimmer. I remember when the 2004 Olympics were rolling around following your graduation from Stanford that you were saying that was one of your goals. Best of luck to you. =)
July 3rd, 2008 at 3:07 pm
Tara,
You have so many fans and all of our hearts broke along with yours. We all have had disappointments, but probably none of this magnitude. So words are hard to find……….words that would comfort you or motivate you or let you know how much you have been loved and admired. Words that would tell you that you have role modeled what all of us should aspire to. But I do know that I can say thank you, Tara. Thank you for being a positive part of all of our lives.
Karen Triplett
July 3rd, 2008 at 9:26 pm
Tara
I remember working with you when you were 16. You came in to our clinic to spend extra training time. I new then that your life would be one success after another. It has been and will continue to be so. As an adult, you don’t run across many kids that inspire you to strive. But I did!
Jeff
July 3rd, 2008 at 11:01 pm
Tara,
I love watching you swim! I hope you continue to pursue what makes you happy. I hope to see and hear more of you in future competitions as well. I know you can do anything. One event, one second, does not define who you are. You did your best and I know that you will continue to do your best. So many people can only imagine being at the level swimmer that you are. You make Washington and so, so many people proud of you!
~Fellow Northwest Gal
July 4th, 2008 at 7:41 am
Tara,
Thank you for sharing your thoughts and emotions at such a difficult time. It made me think at a time when I was really struggling myself. You’re an amazing swimmer & an amazing person. Thank you for having the strength to share that & to impact by life by doing so. I’d love to tell you to stay positive, but as a former athlete, I often found that such words often sounded hollow when I had fallen short of a really important goal. None the less, I do hope that you know how much we are all rooting for you.
July 4th, 2008 at 7:47 am
Hi Tara,
Honestly…. I didn’t know anything about you or even your name before I read your BLOG “It’s a brutal Sport”.
What stroke me is the total honesty in your text, and I think I’ll translate it to Danish, and let my son and maybe some other swimmers read it.
Cause you’re right Swimming is a very brutal sport …. but it’s worth it
Hope to see you swim on the TV some day.
Love Susanne, Denmark
July 5th, 2008 at 9:23 am
Tara Kirk is still my hero today as much as she was last week, last month, last year! A true inspiration in how she leads her life both in and out of the pool. If I ever were to get into the Olympics and someone asked me who it was that brought me into this sport, inspired me to work hard ( in school as well) and who I could give credit to….it would be Tara! And I would proudly say her name. Thank you Tara Kirk……
July 5th, 2008 at 11:45 pm
Wow, that was heartbreaking.
Tara, you’re obviously super-talented, and not just in the pool. You’re a very good writer! Have you thought about asking your rep to contact NBC Sports? I think you’d bring a great perspective as a special correspondent both on camera and in an Olympics blog.
Congrats on your engagement, great time for you …
July 18th, 2008 at 3:40 am
[…] It’s a brutal sport One one-hundredth. Faster than you can snap your fingers. Faster than you can start and stop a stopwatch (even if you cheat and hit the button against your knee instead of using your thumb). Faster than you can blink your eye. That’s what I missed the Olympic Team by. But as I […] […]