Image Credit: World Rowing
It’s funny how quickly expectations can change. One moment, admitting to myself—let alone sharing with anyone else—that my goal was to go to the Olympics was overwhelming. Then, it seemed like overnight, I went from feeling like an imposter to believing I wouldn’t be satisfied with anything less than racing in the women’s pair and coming away with a medal. The speed of this shift was a whirlwind, and in hindsight, it probably contributed to the series of events leading up to the Rio Olympics and my results there.
Continuing the theme of reflecting on defining moments in my rowing career, I see the events of the Olympic trials and Rio as, aside from initially being selected with Kerri (Gowler), the most defining moments that helped Kerri and I go on to win gold in Tokyo.
The year before the Olympics is all about qualification, and this coincided with Kerri and I making the leap from the U23 pair to the elite pair—a big jump for anyone. On top of that, we were also selected for the women’s eight. Young and potentially naïve, I didn’t see the idea of trying to qualify two boats as too daunting. Maybe I didn’t know any better, and maybe I should have been a bit more wary of the challenge of balancing two crews. But in my mind, the Olympics were in sight and that was all that mattered. We were on track in the pair and had the added bonus of potentially being part of the first New Zealand women’s eight to ever qualify for the Olympics
Our spirits were high as we went through the qualification year. Securing two silver medals at the world championships and safely booking a spot for the Olympics in both the pair and the eight was a pretty impressive feat for the relatively young and inexperienced sweep squad we had. Aside from actually winning each event, we couldn’t really have asked for much more. This confirmed that we were on track for Rio. Despite ominous warnings from more experienced athletes about the unique pressures of the Games compared to a world championship, I was confident that my high expectations could be met.
We were told that, unknown to us, that race would count as the first in a three-race series against another pair, where the best of three would represent New Zealand at the Olympics.
Returning to New Zealand for summer, things started to shift. Kerri and I found ourselves, for the first time, as the ones everyone was trying to beat. We had moved from being the underdogs—the U23 pair that could keep up with elite crews, including our own elite women’s pair—to the targets. The change in dynamic, along with the looming Olympics, began to take its toll.
North Island Club Championships was the regatta where things began to unravel. I wouldn’t expect many people to have heard of this regatta before, and usually it doesn’t have a lot of significance, but for our Olympic campaign, a small New Zealand domestic regatta turned out to be pivotal—not that we knew it at the time. Kerri and I coming second in the final must have planted enough doubt in the selectors’ minds about our suitability. Fast forward a few weeks to our Olympic trial week, and we were told that, unknown to us, that race would count as the first in a three-race series against another pair, where the best of three would represent New Zealand at the Olympics.
New Zealand has had some legendary three-race series, with the pinnacle being Mahe Drysdale vs. Rob Waddell for the London Olympics single sculler spot. I vividly remember getting time out of class in high school to watch them on TV battle it out. Now, I found myself in a similar, albeit less public, situation. Starting a three-race series 1-0 down without warning was not an ideal position and it put a massive amount of pressure on us to deliver in ‘Race Two’. It was a tough situation to get our heads around as trials were a whole week, so there was plenty of time to complete all three races, but these were the cards we were dealt. Before we knew it, we were lining up for ‘Race Two,’ knowing that if we lost, our Olympic dream was over. If we won, we would live to see race three.
Do I think it was fair the position we were put in during our three-race series? No. But did we give the selectors a reason to doubt or question us? Yes.
I won’t go into the details, but there was no need for a third race. We knew our fate as soon as we crossed that finish line in a close second.
One silver lining amidst the disappointment was that we were still selected for the women’s eight, so my Olympic dream still came true, but in a very bittersweet way. It wasn’t easy to watch the chosen pair go on to get a silver medal, knowing that potentially could have been us, especially considering we narrowly missed out and came fourth in the eight. Many factors played into this result, but looking back, I believe if I had been at my absolute best, they could have all been avoidable. It was a lesson that you might face unfair situations, but these only come if you give others a reason to question you.
We knew our fate as soon as we crossed that finish line in a close second.
Do I think it was fair the position we were put in during our three-race series? No. But did we give the selectors a reason to doubt or question us? Yes. The key takeaway was that the dream to win gold in the pair was still very much alive, and this experience fueled the fire to ensure that in four years’ time, we wouldn’t fall at the final hurdle and leave our fate in others’ hands. And with that, the new Olympiad kicked off.
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