The last post about the Ceremonies took me the better part of this evening
to put together, but I couldn't turn in without at least touching on the
wonderful practice I had today, and the awesome experience of our "venue
familiarization."

We warmed up and shot for a few hours on the qualifying field, the same as
the last few days--we've practically become old hat at it now. I pulled out
my backup bow and alternated shooting, focusing on relaxing the injured
muscles in my forearm, pushing alignment, and loading the back. I also took
into account some of the advice my Dad gave me, about really deciding to
make the shot. And lo and behold, my shots improved exponentially. Despite
the soreness, I was grinning like a kindergartner with a gold star. My
enthusiasm was dampened a little by the tedious Equipment Inspections, but
lifted again to almost astronomical proportions when we finally got to take
our gear and troop into "Court A," the finals stadium. We were only allowed
25 minutes on both courts, and we took full advantage of every second,
soaking in the venue.

I am so glad now that I watched so many of the Olympic archery matches
online, so I was already familiar with the venue. Also, when I get the time
I like to sit down and do a full visualization meditation--putting myself
into that stadium, in many different elimination round situations. So even
though it was surreal to finally set foot in such an imposing location, it
was also no cause for alarm. I felt thrilled--but comfortable. Awed but
pleased. In my last post I talked about how the Opening Ceremonies was like
a gift for working so hard the last four years. Being granted the honor of
entering this stadium didn't feel like a gift--it felt like something I had
earned, shot by shot, tournament by tournament. I had earned the right to be
there. It was a very unique feeling, and I'm proud to say that as incredible
as it was to be able to shoot in the Finals stadium, I wasn't overwhelmed by
it.

Another thing that totally made my day was learning that we'll be starting
off our matches with four ends of three arrows each! This is big news to me,
since I'd been trying very hard to prepare for the two ends of six that I'd
been facing up until now. (Some background here... an "end" is what we call
it when we go up to the line and shoot a single batch of arrows, usually of
three or six depending on the situation.) So why do I care that the format
has changed? Why not just shoot two quick batches and let the match be
decided? Well, to be honest I absolutely LOVE LOVE LOVE shooting the
slightly longer matches of four ends of three arrows. And I kind of sort of
secretly hate the shorter matches of two ends of six. You see, I learned to
be competitive back when we had the longer matches. It allows you to have a
rough start and pick up momentum, really sweep the event. I used to love
doing that--I probably could have been called the Comeback Queen, I loved it
so much. Have a so-so beginning and then really crank it all down and
deliver the goods. On a golden platter.

A few years back they changed it to make tournaments move a little faster,
and I've had a hard time adjusting. It's just not as much fun to shoot the
wham-bam matches, where they finish almost as soon as they've started.
There's ZERO room for error, which I don't really like. I like being able to
be sloppy if the day calls for it, then turning around and competing in the
most amazing way. I love that. The new shorter matches, I have never loved
at all. It all seems left up to chance--who is on their game NOW, for these
fifteen mintues? Who is off the next? No momentum. Ugh.

So... I have no idea why they have decided to do four ends of three arrows,
but I am SO AMAZINGLY HAPPY! I feel as if the Universe decided to give me a
treat after putting up with the arm injury and the rib pain like such a good
sport. I still hurt, and I don't think that is likely to change much in the
next few days without a minor miracle, but now I am ready. I am so ready I
am grinning in anticipation as I type this. I am prepared. I am shooting
well, with equipment in good working order. I am doubly familiar with the
field of play. I even have a day off tomorrow to go distract myself a bit
with some spectating of my own (just picked up some tickets for Swimming,
Women's Basketball, and Athletics, woo hoo!)

In short, I am SO READY for this. Tuesday's qualifying round, here I come.
Wednesday's matchplay, you better watch yourself. ;)


(PS, I have videos aplenty that I'm trying to upload to YouTube, but
it's a slow process. Coming soon, I promise!)

I had a really rough practice today. I'm not sure if it's the constant
pushing in the chair, or all the sneezing from the first couple days as
caught up with me, or if the firm beds are doing a number on my back, but
for no apparent reason today, my ribs popped. The pain was sharp, acutely
persistent, and I was gasping half the morning during practice. Talk about
annoying!

The good news is that it doesn't bother me much while I'm shooting,
since all the muscles are tightened down and stabilized. But every other
motion I make for the rest of the day is pretty darn ouchie. I'm doing
everything I can to heal it the same way that I was working on my
forearm--taking it easy, warming up and stretching before activity, icing
afterwards, electrostimulation, anti-inflamatories (the good stuff, of
course), and some Reiki. It's just a lot at once and historically this sort
of thing takes weeks to heal. I'm competing on Tuesday.

Ah, well. Nothing else to be done about it--although I'd surely appreciate
every happy thought, prayer, and good vibe that y'all feel up to sending my
way!

In other news, tonight is Opening Ceremonies. No injury or amount of pain
can dampen my enthusiasm for that wonderful, awe-inspiring, life-changing,
dream-affirming event. Honestly, I think the moment of walking into the
stadium in Athens moved me so much, and made such an incredible impact on my
life that I'm pretty certain it has been the driving factor in getting me
through the last four years. Now, tonight, I will be walking into that
stadium with dozens of new friends who are on their own first Games,
and it will be such a tremendous joy to see them witness that great moment.

Isn't it incredible, how many highs and lows these Games bring? The Olympic
movement brings us face to face with some of the worst personal moments in
our lives, and some of the greatest for humanity. As I walk into that
stadium tonight, as I hear the cheers vibrating in every cell of my body,
every spark of energy in my being, I will give thanks that I am human. I
will be proud of us all.

"The Olympics remain the most compelling search for excellence that exists
in sport, and maybe in life itself."
Dawn Fraser,
Australian athlete, b. 1937

Today was my second day of archery practice, and wow. First let me say that
the field is wonderful. It might be the best archery venue I've ever
seen--and this is only the large qualifying field. We haven't even laid eyes
on the field for Finals, which is even better.

The second thing I would like to note is that I really wish I'd pushed hard
with my wheelchair at home. My forearm is in some serious pain and it's
getting in the way of shooting. I'm feeling like an idiot that I tried to
prevent it by being careful, when I ought to have been doing the opposite.
Still, I had no idea what to do at the time and it seemed like a good idea
to err on the side of caution. Ok. So, I'm done feeling silly, since that
won't help. Now on to how to fix this. During shooting, I focus a LOT on
relaxing my forearm muscles and using my back muscles to power through the
shot. I've been wearing my ugly white wrist brace almost all the time, and
I've switched off crutches almost completely. I warm up carefully before
shooting, and do some stretches. When I shoot, I've got the thing taped up
(same as if I had tennis elbow) and when I'm done I ice the dickens out of
it. Then a couple hours later I ice it again with electrostimulation. I top
this all off with Reiki and drinking lots of water, getting enough rest,
etc. Beyond that, I don't know what else I can do.

The irony of this is that if I can just ignore the pain (and get past the
fear that I'm doing some lasting damage, which I doubt) then this little
injury might be a good thing. I'm having to focus very hard on my
form, which is usually a plus. And the two things I'm working on are not new
to me, which is even better. The only sketchy part of the deal is that I'm
not used to having pain come from that part of my body and every once in a
while I have a spasm of pain/weakness while drawing the string
back. It would cramp anyone's style, so I'm just trying to get used to it.
Half the problem is the surprise. I'm so used to my back scapula giving me
trouble that someone could probably jab me with something sharp at full draw
and I'd never notice. I need to build up that same resistance when it comes
to my forearm. I know I can do it, it'll just take some extra focus.

In other news. At the Dining Hall today, we saw someone from the Chinese
team eat rice with chopsticks. Nothing strange, I suppose--except that this
guy was eating with his feet. Seriously cool. Any Paralympic Village
is stocked full with people like this, who have overcome the most
debilitating setbacks in the most incredible ways. I know the motto "adapt
and overcome" belongs to the Marines, but I think the Paralympics should
give serious thought to adopting some version of it, because when you come
right down to it, that's what this whole thing is about. Adapt, overcome.
Leave your obstacles in the dust, rise above them. Citius, Altius,
Fortius. Faster, Higher, Stronger.

Which reminds me, a couple of you made comments on how cool blind judo must
be. I haven't seen my roomate in action yet, but the blind athletes never
cease to amaze me. During the briefing back in the US, they showed us a
short video on John
Morgan, the Paralympic's version of Michael Phelps. He won thirteen gold
medals in '84 and '92 and dominated the sport, eventually receiving the
honor of being inducted into the US Olympic Hall of Fame. He was a
regular swimmer before an accident in a gym blinded him. He said it was two
years before he could bring himself to get back into the pool. "I felt like
I was diving into a void," he said.

That's what it is like for every blind or visually impaired athlete
competing here in Beijing. Even for those who can make out light and dark,
different blurs, etc, it's still taking a huge leap of faith. Blind runners
and cyclists have guides running or riding with them, which are formally
called "pilots" but it's still hard to throw yourself into something like
that full tilt without knowing for sure what lies ahead. Swimmers
have no guides. Goalball players have no guides. I don't know how Visually
Impaired Judo works, but I'd bet a lot that when they step onto the mats,
they are on their own. What strength of character that must take! Talk about
confidence.

I have to go track down our team medic for my afternoon dose of ice and
electric zaps. Tonight we have our official Welcoming Ceremony and Flag
Raising. I hope we get to share with the New Zealanders like we did in
Athens. I'd love to watch them do their incredible Haka, the Māori
traditional dance. Trust me, you haven't seen the Haka until you've seen it
done by hyped-up rugby players stomping their wheelchairs while screaming
their heads off. Talk about a show! I get chills just thinking about it.

Will try and post some video to YouTube, if I can figure out how to access
the site...
Until next time! Miss you all.

Wow! Today I shot my last practice arrows here at home, and what a practice it was! I did a few warmup aiming drills from 18m and moved back to 70 for the rest of the day. It was bright sunny, and humid, and I commented that I'd felt a few raindrops, how odd. Pretty soon it was sprinkling enough to make me take off my sunglasses. Dad was under a reasonable amount of shelter in the golf cart, snapping photos and shooting video with our high speed camera. The first video you see embedded below is from this point in the shooting.

Because the videos make this post so long, I've tucked it behind a cut. ( Click here to read about my last practice in a freak Texas thunderstorm, and see three cool high speed videos! )

Had a good early morning practice with Lori today. We did some pretend elimination rounds that could have gone better, but I was half asleep and had to push harder than usual to focus. After much rest, ice, and Reiki, the pains in my back and forearm have diminished, and not a moment too soon. I shot about 40 arrows yesterday, filming most of it to make sure my shoulder wasn’t coming up. (I might toss a couple of the videos up on YouTube for posterity, for those who are interested.) My form looks great overall, and there’s not a thing about it I would change if I could. Guess all that hard work paid off. ;)

I wonder how many hundreds of thousands of arrows I’ve shot in my archery career. I had a surreal deja-vu moment today, as I punched my arrow counter into the 90s, and all of a sudden it was as if I could feel the muscle memory of every arrow I’ve shot since Athens. I have shot SO MUCH, practice after practice, going and going and going. Many of those shots were good, some were bad. Many were so hard to shoot that it brought me to tears, and some were so easy that it felt like I was born to shoot arrows. But the ones that count the most are the arrows I’ve been shooting in this month, with the confidence that came with the revelation in Colorado. I trust myself now, implicitly. Do you know the kind of freedom that comes with being able to trust yourself? I can’t tell you how ready I feel now.

It’s funny, this time four years ago I was getting my braces removed, listening to Ace of Base, and worrying about drama within the team. I was preparing for an archery camp at the California OTC and a weekend in LA with my wonderful coach Don Rabska, the only person on the planet who I still would trust implicitly when it comes to tuning a bow perfectly on the first try. It gives me a warm feeling to know that after four years, he’s still my personal coach—-even if I haven’t visited him since last summer. What an amazing guy. It was cool to see him working with 5-time Olympian Butch Johnson in Beijing. How old is Butch now? Early fifties? If I've shot hundreds of thousands of arrows, surely he's shot millions.

Age is a funny thing, especially in sports. I think people assume that once you hit your early to mid twenties, you finish with school, settle into a job, stop learning, stop growing, stop changing. I’m 23 and I still feel in limbo, but I’m so much more settled and in control of myself than I was at 19. Still, perspective is everything. At that age, I was looking at the 12-yr old Paralympic swimmers at the OTC and marveling at their youth. Perhaps maturity really is just relative. I don’t even remember this scene, but it was in my personal blog from August 28, 2004:

"There are over 60 Paralympic Swimmers [here at the Olympic Training Center preparing for Athens], and over half of them are under 18. Last night the dining hall was so packed that a few of the youngest had to eat with us archers. One girl, a perky little amputee (her tray contained, of all things, a bowl of fruit loops, some spaghetti, the seafood pesto surprise, and a big glass of pink lemonade) introduced herself as ‘Hi, I'm twelve!’ I told her it was nice to meet her, after which all her friends laughed (high-pitched giggles, oh the horror) and then told me her name was Jessica. I checked the OTC Newsletter later on and discovered she's a major Gold Medal contender.

"Twelve! My God! It sounded so incredibly weird to hear these little kids talking about how this was their first Olympics--they said it like it was their first school dance, or their first real live rock concert. On the one hand, I know they've worked incredibly hard. It's rather obvious, considering how fit everyone on the team looks, even the quadriplegics. But it's still weird to think of these little girls going to compete in the 2nd biggest sporting event in the world--the 2nd biggest event, of any kind, on the planet! It seems unfair to them, somehow, that they don't seem old enough to really appreciate it.

"But hell. They've earned it, and maybe when they're older they'll look back, and they will be able to appreciate it. Maybe they'll go on to coach other giggly little gimps to the Paralympics or the Olympics. It's just surreal, is all."

Surreal? Amen to that! I'm sitting here wondering if I was old enough to really appreciate my first Games. Talk about a day for deja-vu...

Yesterday I got caught in traffic coming back from Austin and was only able to shoot about 40-50 arrows before I ran out of light. I was amazed again to feel how crisp and clean my shots are feeling. It was easy to call up the visualization of the field in Beijing. Easy to get into that "sweet spot" of great bone alignment. Easy to call on the right muscles in my back. Best of all, it was easy to make the decision to carry out the rest of the shot in a clean, confident way. That is a small miracle in itself.

Only problem is that I am incredibly sore. From fifty measly arrows! Thank goodness it's not my old injury of my left scapula, which comes from letdowns. This one is a much more proactive ouchie--in the muscles under my right scapula, the side that helps me draw the bow. I'm also feeling some alarming pain in my right forearm, which could easily be my radial tunnel syndrome flaring up again.

I'm not sure if I should shoot today. When this happened last week, I'd already scheduled a day off the very next day. I already took the day before yesterday off, because I was busy. Seems like I ought to keep working in compensation, but I don't want to overdo it. Also, my dad doesn't work on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so it would be good to shoot today so I could get his help with last minute tuning. It would be very useful to get in a couple practices today, but I don't know if that would be too much, even if I kept the arrow tally down.

That's historically been one of my problems; to this day, I still don't quite know my limits. I've lost track of the number of times I've completely overdone an exercise regimen, too much shooting, swimming, wheeling, crutching, kayaking, physical therapy, or some combination thereof. Usually I have trouble getting as motivated as I think I ought to be, but one out of every five days of exercise or so, I get really pumped up and want to keep going and going. That's when I tend to hurt myself, even though I don't think an average able-bodied person would have to stop so soon.

I don't think that's what has happened here. I've been swimming gently once a week, doing laps in my wheelchair twice a week at low intensity. I always warm up and stretch before every activity. The only thing that has changed is my focus when I shoot. As my dad just pointed out, ever since my revelation in Colorado, I've been making the decision every single shot to have a great execution. That means more power, more intensity. In short, I think I'm incredibly sore because I'm behaving a little bit more like a professional archer.

Last night my friends gave me a surprise chocolate cake with Good Luck written on top, as well as a large card with a Chinese dragon which they had all signed. I was totally touched by the gesture and rejoiced in having a perfectly good excuse to to each chocolate cake for breakfast!

Which is what I did this morning, and had a fabulous practice. Dad set up the big traffic light on a timer, which is all part of the lighting system the Texas State Archery Association uses at tournaments. He set it on the ground lengthways, about 10m in front of me, and we practiced doing the alternating arrows system that they will use in Beijing, complete with flashing lights and beeping. I visualized the stadium that we saw in videos from the Olympics, and he played George Tech (making announcements). Here's an abbreviated version of what it will probably sound like in Beijing. Two whistles (or beeps, as the case may be) signal the archers to come to the line. One beep signals that the next archer may shoot. Three signal the end of shooting. The announcer typically talks right up to the point of the archer releasing the arrow, which can be a little nerve-wracking if you don't practice it.

Beep, beep! Archers to the line.
Beep! Chinese archer Chang Lin shoots first... A seven!
Beep! Carmichael is up... and she follows with an eight! Possibly a line-cutter nine, too close to call.
Beep! Chang Lin hesitates, what will she do? A nine, ladies and gentlemen! Fine shooting, from one of China's best.
Beep! Carmichael shoots a nine. That brings her total score to 17 points, possibly 18.
Beep! Chang Lin shoots a bull's-eye ten! Excellent shot!
Beep! Carmichael pulls through the clicker! She lets down, starts over. She needs a nine to tie, ten for the lead. Will she have the concentration to---TEN! Ladies and gentlemen, what a shot!
BEEP BEEP BEEP!
That takes us into our break with Carmichael in the lead at 27 points, and Chang Lin trailing by one point.

We practiced several scenarios--me trailing my opponent, my opponent having a breakdown, and of course lots of high-pressure ties and shootoffs. It was very good practice, helped me get my head in the right spot. I have to go in to work today, a wine tasting at one of the Sun Harvest Grocers, but I think this was the highlight of my day. The last end I was getting a little shaky, and I could have cinched the match if I'd shot a nine. The final shot felt pretty good, with good alignment and timing that could have been better. I ended up with an eight.

And you know something? I think that if I'd been on the field in China in that scenario, an eight when I needed a nine, a good shot instead of an incredible one... I think there would have been tears, but also pride and acceptance. I am entirely serious when I say that as long as I shoot good shots and do my best, I will be happy with my performance--whether it brings me nothing or it brings me gold. The things I have earned for myself, the mental strength, the experiences, the lessons... everything along this path has more value than any shiny metal disc. (Of course, the shiny dics come with a cool ring of jade inlaid into the back. I know silver has green jade... and gold gets white jade. How sweet is that???) But the point is that I've already won, in a way. And it's not the kind of reward anyone can ever take away from me.

I'm not packed. My bows still need minor tuning. I'm not even sure where my passport is. But I am ready. Seven days left.

"The most important thing in the Games is not to win but to take part.
Similarly, the most important thing in life is not to triumph but to struggle.
The essential thing is not to conquer but to have fought well."

Pierre Frédy, Baron de Coubertin, founder of the modern Olympic movement

I've taken the last two days off for recovery days, and at practice this morning I was very glad I did. I feel stronger overall, and not very sore, both of which are very good at this point in my training.

The story about me was printed in the local paper yesterday, and I'm very glad to see it turned out so well. The photos were pretty good and the writing was definitely professional (except for the typos I spotted, but hey, it's a local paper, cut them some slack). I'm trying to decide if I want to simply type it up and post one of the photos for y'all, or if I want to scan the whole thing in, get my father to post it somewhere on the Texas Archery Website which he runs, and link to it. I have so much to do today, I'm not sure when this will get done. But it's a great article, and I'd love to share it.

The closer and closer we get to the day I leave, the more frantic things seem to be. I'm still lying awake at night, unable to shut off my brain because I'm checking over list after list of errands I need to run, things I need to pack, wondering if I can manage it all. And still, somehow, I've managed to say "yes" to half a dozen social engagements, from hanging out with friends in south Austin whom I haven't seen in months and months... to meeting a class of kids at the local middle school to talk about heroes. I'm glad for the balance, but I'm still feeling a bit frazzled.

Eight days left!!!

Good news about the tickets. Turns out that the Beijing ticket people haven't even released the Paralympic tickets yet, so we are fine. Thank goodness!!!

Had a great practice today. Made it a lot closer to a hundred arrows, and felt good about the shots. It's getting easier to handle the extra weight, enough so that I don't even think of it that way anymore. (I checked the poundage today with Easton's cool bow scale, and I'm actually up to 34 again, when I thought I was at 33. Ooops. Oh, well, it works for me! All the better to shoot in the wind.)

I really need to set aside a big block of time this weekend for an arrow-fletching party. I'll strip off all the creased, torn, misaligned fletch, clean the arrows, and start applying new ones. I'm thinking holographic red will do quite nicely. My Dorothea arrows, headed straight down the yellow brick road into the bull's-eye.

It's strange to think that whatever I do to my equipment, whatever touch ups I make, whatever I accidentally overlook.... All of it only has to last for the next four weeks. I've been working towards this for FOUR YEARS and all of a sudden, I only have four weeks left until it's over. I feel as if I've spent all this time raising money to buy a theme park ticket, and I've been on the road for so long driving endlessly towards my destination. Now I'm at the door to the theme park, and soon I'll be in line at the biggest, scariest, most exhilarating roller coaster I've ever seen. I know I'll feel a little panicky as I strap in and the machine takes us, chug, chug, chug, slowly up the great hill, chug, chug, chug, and you can feel the wind in your face and see the plummeting distance between you and where you were just moments before.

I won't lie to you. As I generally do on a rollercoaster, I will be having some serious doubts, some big second thoughts, but underneath it all there will be a supreme calm, an acceptance of the fact that I signed up for this crazy ride and whether I like it or not I'm going down that hill at lightning speed. I'll take the curves, I'll lean into the loops and feel the blood rush into my head at dizzyingly unexpected times. All that's left to do is decide how I will let myself experience it. I could cower and close my eyes and shriek in terror. Instead I'd rather admire the view--even if it's up-side down--and enjoy the sensation of my heart racing madly. I'd rather savor the feeling of surreal weightlessness, the sheer joy in the experience. THAT is how to handle these next four weeks.

And why not? In the process of living life, we make memories. Once life is lived, what do we have left? The memories locked away in our hearts and minds. That's why it's so important to make each day as wonderful as possible. Otherwise, what's the point? So--no regrets. No pouting when I could be smiling. No being lazy when I could be working, or doing something fun and interesting. No panic, no worrying about what is or isn't perfect. Just acceptance of the way the world works. And lots of good times. :)

I had a little trouble getting motivated today with the gray skies and rain, so when I did end up shooting, I went to the absolute last minute of light. By the time I finally decided to pack everything away, I'd spotted the grandaddy of all owls perching on a tree beyond my target. I was also nearly dive-bombed by at least two bats. Talk about pushing things to their limit!

I only wish I'd pushed myself a little bit harder. This is my conditioning phase, and I really dropped the ball today. I ought to have shot another 120 arrows, and I didn't come close to that. This morning, even with the rain I ought to have been out doing laps in my wheelchair to strengthen my biceps and rhomboids, but instead I stayed inside and baked muffins. They were delicious and bursting with blueberries, but still.

I am always drawn towards balance. Perhaps it's why I'll never want to be a Resident Athlete at the Olympic Training Center, even though that program produces some of the most advanced archers in this country. The kind of person who thrives in that environment is the same sort of person who loves to go out and train in their sport from dawn until dusk. I enjoy archery, and it's become a very big part of my life in the past ten years. But I'm not exclusively an archer. I'm also a cook. And a writer. Occasionally I'm a student. (Straight A's this past semester even with all the tournaments. I can be such a perfectionist.) I'm also a daughter. And a friend. Who ever heard of an elite athlete having a social life? Well, I've managed it so far--with the help of some very understanding friends, of course! The point is that I can't handle 24/7 archery. I've tried it before and I usually go stir-crazy. Sport is amazing, challenging, and invigorating, but there's more to life than that. So if you don't see an update here on practices every day, that's why. I'm probably off seeking balance. ;)

Tomorrow I ought to be out shooting by 8am, and by noon I will be across Austin having lunch with a friend. Wednesday I'll swim some laps, get a deep-tissue massage, and have lunch with a different friend. Lots of arrows, lots of exercise and rest and good times. It's all in the balance.

Twelve days left!

I was interviewed during practice today! An intern from the local paper, the North Lake Travis Log Newspaper, came out at 8:30am to take photos and hear my story. I was impressed with the questions he asked, and the whole thing went over very well. I'm much better at interviews now than I was four years ago, but it's never a completely comfortable experience. Ah, well. If I can, I'll share some of the article when the paper comes out this Thursday. :)

I've been having fun watching recorded Olympics on our TiVO. I've seen all the Phelps races, but it's so inspiring to see him keep winning. Rewind. Win! Rewind. Win! I wish real sports were so easy, haha!

----------

For those of you who still want in on the interviews, I'm posting a link to a radio interview that the local NPR station did for me in early July. Here's what I wrote on my personal blog when it happened:

I am on the radio! And you can actually listen to the story this time!!!

The story is titled "Austin Athletes Prep for Paralympics" and is a short blurb about how we don't receive as much money or recognition as Olympians. I didn't know he was going to take this angle when he came to interview me last week, but I was eloquent on a number of subjects and I'm proud of this one. Good publicity--and besides, he put me on with Mark Zupan. That guy ALWAYS knows what to say in front of a mic.

Had a rather grueling double practice session today. Well, let me re-phrase. It was hard for me, at this moment. Maybe earlier in the summer it would have been a snap, but after hurting myself a bit in Colorado, bringing my bow weight down 2lbs, and laying off all week, it was pretty hard. (To give you perspective, most top Korean archers probably shoot 200-500 arrows a day without blinking. I shot 106, and counted myself lucky. It's not as bad as it sounds, though. My goal is usually quality instead of quantity. Each archer is different.)

I shot around 70 arrows this morning, and another 36 this afternoon. And since I overslept, it was all done in 97F heat with 80% humidity. Full sun, standing on asphalt. (Just keep telling yourself, I love Texas! I love Texas!) Strangely enough, even though it felt a little harder to draw back the bow, my back muscle didn't really begin to feel lots of pain until the last bit of practice. Of course, by then I was shaking a bit all over-- "feeling the burn" if you know what I mean. Naturally, my dad doesn't tell me till the end of practice that he'd cranked my bow weight back up about a pound this morning. I couldn't help but laugh. It probably saved me some mental hurdles to overcome, but I still would have liked to know! Sheesh. :)

Still, it was a great practice overall. In the morning we did some equipment tuning. This afternoon, Dad did some filming with a new high-def camera. Also, I got a chance to use the "Olympic Sounds Playlist" of crowd sounds and cheering that former Olympic Training Center Resident Athlete Guy Krueger made for me. He's the Assistant Coach out there now, and we all are so proud of him. Guy does so much for the sport of archery. His playlist worked wonderfully, too. He had it paced just like it was a real Olympic archery match, with George Tech announcing scores and opponents. Somehow, listening to the sounds, it was so much easier to picture myself in the same intimidatingly narrow stadium where our Olympians have been competing this week.

I am as disappointed as the next American archer to see that we have no shooters left in competition over there. Still, I think they all shot very well (did you see Butch Johnson's three-arrow shootoff?? I nearly died of suspense!) and I hope they can enjoy themselves a bit now that the hard part is over. Haha, I remember in 2004, the Canadian archer Jonathan O'Hayan told me that he was strangely glad when he went out so quickly in his matches. He had more time to spend seeing the Parthenon and shopping at the old Plaka market. I think that was where I got my idea of archery vacations. Whenever I don't come out of a match victorious, it's as if I switch gears mentally. I decide from that moment onward that I am "on vacation" and I do my best to make the rest of the trip a positive one by cheering for my teammates. Or, if none of my teammates are left competing, I might cheer for a Canadian. You know. If there was nothing else to do. ;)

And for those of you who have been glued to NBC just like me, following Michael Phelps and John Horton... Remember that anyone can be in the Olympics. Just keep dreaming! ^_^

“Today is the first day of the rest of my life.”

I shot many, many arrows last week during Nationals in Colorado Springs. When I flew home on Sunday I decided to let my various muscle injuries take some time off. I haven’t shot until today, and so today marks the beginning of the last leg of training before Beijing.

I have sixteen days and roughly twenty-three hours before I have to leave home for team processing at USOC headquarters in Colorado Springs. The Paralympic Archery Team arrives there on the 31st with Wheelchair Rugby and Fencing. Once we are checked in, we get fitted for mountains of clothing, go through media training, and practice our Chinese manners—how to wield chopsticks, how to present business cards, how to avoid accidental offenses. Plus a host of other preparatory things that I can’t remember from our run-through with Athens.

Then on September 2nd we fly to Beijing. I want to say the flight will last roughly fourteen hours, and the best part is that our coaches get to spend the entire flight making sure we all stay awake. Then once we arrive in China, we’ll get processed again, this time by the Chinese officials and the Athlete Village security. Then we eat dinner, find our rooms, and finally fall asleep. We will have a few days of practice, and then scoring will begin. That’s the exciting part.

It’s so easy to keep looking ahead, ahead, ahead. It seems as if that’s all I’ve been doing for four years. I’m glad that it’s finally here, but I’d like to put the breaks on if I could, savor these last precious days. For example, today’s practice went very well. I had only one letdown because I came through the clicker too fast, and the rest were solid, strong shots. I can’t tell you how proud I am of that fact.

You can read through my introductory post for a recap on why this should please me so much. I suppose it’s odd for an Olympic athlete to go through four years of pain and frustration, only to find peace and strength the month before the Games. Then again, I’ve always been good at last-minute-miracles.

So here we are. For the next sixteen days, I will chronicle my practice and training and keep you up-to-date on any drama that might pop up. And beyond that, I will take you with me to China with my words. There are many restrictions on blogging during the Games, and I will do my very best to adhere to those rules. I would ask again that anyone who wants to post commentary do the same, or else the authorities may decide to close down this site for long enough to ensure I’m not posing a threat.

Thanks so much for reading, everyone!