Image credit: World Rowing
Leading into an Olympic year, a lot of thoughts crossed my mind about things that could go wrong. After three and a half years, the end was in sight and I think it was natural to start getting apprehensive. My worries tended to be things like injury, illness or losing form. But a global pandemic? That was never on my list.
We were supposed to be boarding a plane to Europe for the World Rowing Cups and our final lead preparation for Tokyo. Instead, our women’s squad sat in the boardroom at the Rowing New Zealand High Performance Centre, having just learned the country was going into lockdown.
The world was already in various states of lockdown, but this was when it truly felt real for me. A few weeks later, the Olympics were officially ‘postponed,’ leaving us in limbo, unsure if that would eventually turn into a cancellation.
Although it was not in the plan to turn a four-year cycle into a five-year one, the small glimmer of hope that we would get to race in a delayed Olympics was enough motivation to get me through another year of training. It wasn’t easy and a lot of things had to be adapted but a year later, it looked like the Olympics would go ahead but in a very different way. Daily COVID testing, masks, no family or supporters wasn’t exactly how I dreamt my Olympic experience would play out. But after the events of the previous year, I honestly couldn’t care less. The main thing was that we had made it to Tokyo, and there was no going back.
So, the moment came and the Olympic racing week kicked off The plan was the same and we would race both the eight and the pair. Before our semi-final, Kerri and I were sitting in our team room, watching the racing on TV and waiting to start our warm-up. It was windy again and we saw about three semi-finals in a row where crews caught crabs and multiple ‘favourites’ missed out on even making the A-Final. It was a good reminder of how ruthless the Olympic Games were – one mistake and your dream could be over. Kerri and I managed our semi-final well and set new world and Olympic Best Times, so step one was complete, and we were safely through to both the eight and pair A-Final.
Race mornings are things of structure, and we go through a routine that we have practiced hundreds of times. On the bus on the way to the final, I remember Kerri and I turning to each other and saying how we thought we would be more nervous than we were. We had a strange sense of calm as well as excitement, but none of the dreaded nervousness I felt at Rio. I put that down to us reaching a stage where we knew what performance we were going to put out every time. Our biggest strength was our consistency, so I knew we were going to line up and have a great race that day. Did I know where we would cross the line as a result? No, but that part was out of my control.
The race started, and as expected, there were a lot of different tactics. The Canadians shot out of the start, and we came out relatively conservatively. Something Eric Murray had outlined in an interview a few years before stuck with me.
Eric said: “You will never enjoy the race, but the rewards after it make it all worth it.”
That wasn’t my experience, I really enjoyed the race, and I will always remember the feeling of excitement when we slowly edged back through the Canadians and took the lead with about 750m to go. However, that’s when the next wave of challenges started with Russia trying everything to close the gap. In the end, we crossed the line first, and I finally got to experience what it felt like to win an Olympic gold medal.
It wasn’t what I thought it would feel like. I was of course over the moon, but it felt more like deep satisfaction because of all the hard work and everything that Kerri and I had overcome together to get to this point. The moment and the day after that was a bit of a blur, but I don’t think many people can say that after winning Olympic gold, they went out for a training row later that day, but that’s what we did. It was time to focus on the eight.
Eights racing is fast, furious and completely different from a pair. There were moments when we could have easily won or come sixth. I don’t think it was the best race we had ever produced, but crossing the line in second place was a moment I will never forget. New Zealand historically has never been dominant in eights, and for us to do that, then for the men’s eight to win gold in the race after, and then throw in Emma Twigg’s gold ten minutes earlier — it was an incredibly special moment in Rowing New Zealand’s history to be a part of.
The Olympics are the pinnacle of the rowing calendar, and achieving my near-perfect performance is something I am still taking in. Looking back on my rowing career, I’ve realised that the result isn’t what I tend to remember. Instead, it’s what it took to get there. Kerri and I started rowing together in 2014, and working towards one goal with one other person for seven years made our achievement even more special. It wasn’t easy or quick, but I wouldn’t change any part of it.
The satisfaction of overcoming challenges and pushing through tough times makes our success so much more meaningful. That feeling has stuck with me more than the feeling of winning. Now I have the privilege of standing on the banks, watching the next group of athletes line up in Paris next week to chase their Olympic dreams, knowing firsthand what lies ahead for them and what has gone on to even get to that point!
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