The Belief that Ramona Bolstered

In the wake of Mykolas Alekna’s second World Record ratification, I can’t stop thinking about Ramona as we accelerate into World Championships. That place is special. Caleb Seal built it, and in three short years, discus throwers have come in droves. If they shank one into the adjacent pasture, they do appear again as if from nowhere, materializing from the fields. He built it, they came.

Yes, the winds are great. Yes, Caleb has a knack for choosing the right ring for the right day, and he’ll stand by his methodical decision-making process, postponing the start of even the World Athletics Bronze Invitational to be sure conditions will be optimal for all athletes. (He VERY nearly changed the ring for the women’s comp that saw ridiculous U.S. discus throwers’ results on Saturday, April 12 this year, and I believe the results would have been the same if he had.) But there’s more to Ramona than the physical place. I’d been thinking it for a while, but a friend said it out loud the other day: 

When discus throwers go there, they believe. 

Why does Daniel Stahl throw 70m often out of that one ring on home soil in Sweden? What was going through Suzy Powell-Roos’ head in 2007 when she set the American Record on Maui at the aptly-named Big Wind meet? How come people can name multiple epic showdowns from Salinas in the ‘80’s and ‘90’s? Why has Triton not attracted the same vitriol that Ramona did this year, despite offering favorable conditions and resulting in big throws for Americans and visitors alike? 

At venues that inspire, people bring their best selves. They imagine what’s possible, put themselves in a position to achieve their dreams, and then execute. They can fantasize all they want about big throws, but once in that field, they still have to perform. They believe, and rise to the occasion. Watching so many more men and women do just that in 2025 after Mykolas proved the impossible was possible in 2024 was jaw-dropping, but it doesn’t stop there.

They all take that confidence, that learning, with them.

The phenomenon in discus throwing that we’re all currently eating up did not start in Ramona. Daniel lit a match long ago, with all of his potential and big, personality-showcasing throws. Kristjan Ceh set the discus world on fire in 2022 with his consistency and World title. The men’s standard keeps rising. Thinking about the noise of the crowd as Daniel’s Budapest bomb kept flying in 2023 still gives me chills. The fierceness of the Tokyo Olympic men’s final was brutal. Matty Denny’s multiple Diamond League titles without a global medal yet was very cool foreshadowing. Valarie Allman’s dominance is absolutely unprecedented. Laulauga Tausaga’s resounding World title made literal history. Jorinde van Klinken has been a 70m discus thrower since 2021. Sandra Elkasevic’s tenure is incredible.

People were throwing far, but something happened when imaginations were set alight by the construction and promise of Ramona. As a thrower, I’m oddly interested in running. I can’t tell you anything about pacing or workouts or actual thresholds or improvement, but I can’t help, now, thinking about how Roger Bannister opened the floodgates for breaking the 4-minute mile. He did it, then everyone else did. Mykolas broke the world record, then Matty would have if he hadn’t again. Kristjan has three meets over 72m this year (as does Matty).

For the first time ever this year, FIVE men in one competition threw 70m in Ramona. A few days prior, Matty’s series-average day of 72.73m (on my birthday no less) will be something I enjoy remembering for a long, long time, especially seeing him and Dale deeply appreciate it for hours afterward. Watching Lagi prove something to herself after a year of difficulty made me weep into my clipboard. The focus, intention, and execution of Val, the way she did not show up to the ring until she was ready and then calmly, with conviction, put the pieces together to crack the top 10 in world history was a master class. 

Then, those athletes went out into the rest of the world, and the world responded. And they kept fighting. Daniel, Kristjan, and Matty all threw 70m at the Paavo Nurmi Games in June. Mykolas has five meets on the season over 71m, the four of them besides his WR in Lithuania, London, Texas, and California. Sam Mattis, one of those five 70m throwers in the A section in Ramona, came out swinging at USAs, and appears primed for Tokyo. Val’s winning streak was threatened a bit in Rome, and she rose to the top, challenged by some of the same competitors she passed in R3 in that field of dreams in April. Ralford Mullings, the NCAA Champion, recorded 72m in Ramona and then, immediately, victory in Brussels. 

Discus throwers, who always believed in themselves, now believe in the unbelievable. 

The sky is, as ever, the limit. It just feels closer, in part, because of Ramona.

Thank you, Dana. <3

Dana Lyon is small in stature but larger than life in personality, drive, and service to others. She threw far, in Colorado at that (javelins don’t like to fly in this thin air): She’s still top 10 all-time in the U.S. with a 59.92m PR at 5’2”. She’s been a javelin heroine of mine since a meet at Cal Berkeley in 2005: My freshman and her junior year of college. I had a huge PR to place second to her, more than a few meters ahead of me.

Dana in a USA uniform, coming down the runway with a javelin.

Two-time NCAA Champion, 2007 PanAms and World Championship team member, and much more.

Asking her to be my coach in 2017 was not weird or hard or intimidating. I missed her! I knew we could have fun together, and we did. Looking back, I don’t know what I would have done if she had said no. Figured something out, I guess. But I’m forever glad she agreed. I said when we started that it’d be up to me to check my ego and learn how she threw the javelin. “What might happen if we apply that to my 6’0” body?” The most consistent 4 seasons of my career is what, despite massive injury.

She taught me how to use my whole body in a throw, how to better laugh through frustration and tears-notably in a rainy Des Moines parking lot when a possum lumbered by-and most importantly, how fun it can be to work with your friends.

I always wanted to take her to the Olympics. I sat in Team Processing in 2008, naively and giddily filling out paperwork to go to my first Olympics while sitting across the table from my devastated friend, who would then barely toe foul an A standard throw a week later (and we only took two women to Beijing). So when I heard that she was separating from the military and taking a job as javelin and strength coach at USAFA at precisely the same time as I was ready for new technical input, I leapt at the chance to work together. My planned final Olympics were firmly in my sights, and my heart was wide open to new opportunity.

Cue mutual excitement for the first javelin session of every year, and every one after that. Conversations at practice that so easily weaved from friendship to coach-athlete. Work-so much hard technical work-getting done with that kind of excited same-wavelength feeling that we both knew was there, but didn’t acknowledge until a dinner later or the last practice before a meet that mattered. The mutual understanding that we were going places, together.

Europe (Zurich, Prague, and the Continental Cup) together in 2018 was amazing. For our first season together to result in an all-time Europe PR for me, 3rd at both meets, and magical recovery paddling days was a dream. One of my favorite throwing sessions ever-at Kladno-ended with lunch and coffee with Barbora. Seeing my friends become friends is always my favorite!

Dana and Kara have a fist bump, reaching across barriers separating them.

3rd in Ostrava at IAAF Continental Cup 2018, a few weeks after 3rd at Zurich DL Final & such a fun Prague stay.

The ups and downs of 2019 made us so strong. Training camp in Chula Vista and the way we missed that atmosphere together when we got home, but still had each other. Her face when I told her at Mexican food that I’d stabbed myself in the throwing hand. Dana letting me try a different grip, reluctantly, and not gloating at all when I switched back and finally threw how we knew I could. Her circling the airport for WAY too long with balloons when my javelins took ages to appear after PanAms victory. Our last throwing session in the HAC during a thunderstorm before Belarus. Fifth-the best finish by an American woman at Worlds in a LONG time-in Doha, where I was so, so, so proud of her for reasons that had nothing to do with javelin.

Dana and Kara hug in the Doha World Championship stadium after competition.

After 5th in Doha and drug testing, only ones left, happy, in the stadium.

2020 was filled with park days and leisurely convos after practice. Random departures on both of our parts but always coming back together. Extra time to try out technical things we just hadn’t gotten to yet, and the only certainty in the world being that we were both still in this, for no more reason than that it’s fun to do this thing we’ve always shared, together.

Both Jamie and Dana have described to me what they did after hanging up from my phone calls to each of them to tell them about my knee. I don’t think either one of them necessarily wanted me to compete that summer, but I felt awesome, didn’t want to skip a whole season, and also javelin is fun. To both of their enormous credit, I never perceived any blame from either of them, and never detected the devastation at the news that they both later described to me. They were only ever supportive, and Dana jumped right in: Walked Maddie even though I knew she didn’t have time, provided me with a distraction and new connection to the event that I didn’t know I needed in coaching Joe Nizich at the USAFA prep school, and understood the assignment in not letting me get away with bad technique once I picked a jav up again. Surgery or no, there wasn’t time to lose what we’d gained before my most recent injury. Of course I had many incredible things combine to make 2021 possible, but the single biggest reason I was able to return so quickly is the fact that Dana massively improved my technique over the previous three seasons, then held me to it in the crucial last one.

We made it to the Olympics. The tears I shed in Tucson last year, knowing we were going to make it, were so different from all my desperate tears through so many practices. She listened to me complain about my painfully slow learning curve at my job, understood when film review was cut short because I had a meeting, continued to make me feel welcome and valued at the Academy, commiserated about my healing when I needed it, and so much more.

I watched Dana grow as a coach, too. She saw my needs in new ways, especially in Tokyo. I’m incredibly proud of the effort we put forth and forever grateful for the journey we walked in the last four years.

She transformed my career, especially internationally. She gives all of herself to her athletes, and she did that and beyond for me. Hearing her say, “I feel like I let you down,” in Tokyo almost broke my heart again, because of course she didn’t: I would not still be in this sport without her. Dana showed me just how rewarding working with, traveling with, and sharing this part of life with a loved one can be. I’ve learned that lesson before, but she really drove it home.

Kara and Dana laugh together at practice on a runway in the Dominican Republic in 2006.

Our first time as USATF teammates: Dana crushed everyone at NACAC’s 2006.

Thank you, my friend. I love you. I’m so lucky to have been your athlete.

I’m still blown away by my miraculous 2021 success, in the wake of my injury, but the cold, hard, objective measurement of sports fact-coupled with dwindling opportunities for field eventers in the world-is that I wasn’t good enough to get into meets at the end of the season.

I was crushed. Dana was incredibly supportive, as always. And even though Russ is often out of service, he was there to cry to exactly when I needed him to be. Despite being athletes together for the first 10 years of our relationship, we rarely competed in the same meets, or even in the same countries. So when he said over the phone, “What if I come with you next year, just for fun,” my tears stopped and my wheels started turning. At the end of his career, in response to a question about the future from my Mom, he said, “I’m DONE, but Kara has unfinished business.” We both won NACACs in 2015 (our first year of marriage), medaled at PanAms, and got to be roommates at Worlds, where I made my first final. He played the informal role of my coach in Rio, and made me laugh hard at a Brazilian BBQ in the midst of my devastation about 13th place. We used to have champagne and cheese time after practice when we lived in Germany in 2010. He came to London for his birthday and to coach me at Worlds in 2017. Australia together for their domestic circuit in 2012 will forever be one of my favorite trips. And spread throughout all that happiness has always been real, hard, supportive conversation about what we both need, at many different points of our individual lives that we choose to spend together.

Ever since we met, I’d rather be with him than anyone else: I looked at him recently and confessed, “I’m disgustingly happy.” When I couldn’t stop sobbing over the phone when I hurt my knee again he said, “Kara, whatever happens, it’s going to be okay,” and with Russ by my side, that has always been true.

The many hardships of my journey in 2020 and 2021, the pride I feel in this second comeback, the new essential team members I have in my PT Kelcie Wittman and even co-workers, the technical ferocity Dana instilled in me, Jamie’s continued fantastic training programs, and even the lifting of the American Record weight from my shoulders have all prepared me to tackle this last season with wide open eyes, a totally vulnerable heart, and a lightness I haven’t felt in a long, long time. I missed Russ so much in the chaos of last year: He was there when he could be, amazing as ever, but I didn’t have the time to fully honor the role he was playing in my life.

Now, for better or worse, we get to spend one last season in throwing sectors together, this time as coach and athlete.

It feels so right to finally listen to his ideas that have been great the whole time, but also to just have him there. We came to this decision independently of each other, standing on opposite sides of the kitchen, and in that moment I felt very taken care of, and more at peace than maybe ever. I think that gives both of us more confidence in the situation than if one of us had asked this big favor of the other. I truly do not care about outcome: I don’t need to prove anything more to myself or anyone else, I’m just here to have a blast with my partner in life, for one more season.

I missed my friend Dana, asked her to be my coach when the timing felt right, and we had a fantastic four years, weathering ups and downs together, her role directly resulting in some of my best years, and not just on the runway. I’ve missed my husband in this area of my life since his retirement after 2016 Olympic Trials, and while we’d talked about the possibility of him coaching me in the past, it didn’t feel right until this, my last year.

So far, so, so, so good.

Kara and Russ smiling by the fence at Mt. SAC Stadium.

We started our one year as coach and athlete at Mt. SAC with 63.29m. SO fun to be at a meet together again. No matter what happens, it’s going to be okay.

2019 Season Q&A

I got a lot more questions than I expected when I solicited them on Instagram, and while many of them are similar, I think my long-winded answers to all of them are sufficient to explain the details of my 2019! It was really fun to arrive in Doha, have people exclaim, “OMG, you’ve had a great season!” and actually respond, “Well thank you, but not completely.” It’s easy for other people to forget the hard times, and it can even be easy for us to do so when things go well again. But I think-and I kept the idea at the forefront of my consciousness in August/September/October-that remembering the hard lessons keeps you humble and hungry. I tried so hard to do that all the way through 2019. Enjoy! And please ask further questions if you have them.

During qualifying in Doha. Photo and all rights: Paul Merca.

During qualifying in Doha. Photo and all rights: Paul Merca.

“Did you ever work through a cycle expecting big numbers but they didn’t show?”

I felt really good physically, but not technically, in July. I trained well and hard when I got home from Europe in June (after a little bit of a weird calf strain to start my season), then traveled back to Europe for Lausanne, Luzern, a very small meet in Prague (Kladno, actually), and London, before coming back to Iowa for USATF Nationals. Physically, I felt great. Technically, I was a little lost, but knew I was closer than I felt. Mentally, I was a mess. Lonely, trying to visualize perfect technique twice a day without having a clear picture of what that technique was, which just made me frustrated and beat down confidence-wise. My expectation (to answer your question) was really far throws based on how I felt physically, which just made my disappointing results in July all the more devastating. July was my dark time this season, but ended so well at USATF Nationals, being reunited with so many people that I love (Russ, Maddie, my family, Dana, Britney, Ari, and a just tidal wave of amazing throwers…current athletes, retired former teammates, and coaches that I’ve known for a long long time). That week started my shift in focus that set up the rest of the season.

“What is your main goal?”

A fantastic fourth Olympic Games.

“How often do you train a week?”

Any given week, I’m training six days per week, but the time of year dictates how long or heavy those training sessions are. Jamie has me throw something three days a week (either two ball days and one javelin day or two javelin days and one ball day), lift twice, and do recovery stuff/gymnastics/endurance-ish things, or whatever on Saturdays. During kinda the middle of 2019, I got really sick of ball days. Honestly, I have always hated them a little, but that feeling really strengthened this year. It’s a lot of volume, and I just wasn’t feeling like I learned anything during those sessions. After talking to Jamie about it (I’m so happy I can be so honest with him), we shifted the plan to ball/drill day. Dagnabbit, if that wasn’t what he had in mind in the first place! So wise. It is SO FUN now for me to think about what has been deficient in my throw recently and plan drills for each block’s ball days to address those issues.

SO, javelin days are pretty straightforward (footwork and throwing, mostly), ball days are a bit more involved (balls are easier on your arm than a javelin so more volume is possible, plus I like to really hammer the drills if it’s the right time of year to do so) and I sprint on those days, too. Lifting days feature either Olympic or Squat-ish lifts and lots of core (I added more core to my regular routine about halfway through this season, too). Saturdays/my recovery day vary based on how my body is feeling in each block, but almost always have an interval jog or a swim, core, and any rehab-ish movements I need. I also like to swim laps after javelin day: The weightlessness, long flowing arm movements, bilateral/crossbody action, and solitude put my body back together after throwing and allow me the mental quiet to really lock in technical things that we worked on that day.

“How did you take what you learned at USATF outdoors then move forward to World’s?”

When I was still in Europe (Prague and then London), I was wracking my brain about how to freaking relax my body and mind. My thoracic spine was just wrecked and tight all the time, and when you’re traveling meet to meet it’s difficult to get regular treatment. I also was just WORRIED constantly. That’s not like me, but I know that people change and maybe I needed to try something new. I made appointments when I was still in Prague for massages at a great place in Des Moines after combing the internet for a therapist I thought I would like (she was EXCELLENT). I had a total of three hours with her between Monday and Wednesday of USAs week, haha. I also made my very first appointment to float. In a sensory deprivation tank. For an hour and a half. Fadeaway Flotation was awesome. I absolutely loved the experience, and when I got home to Colorado, I found a place within five minutes of my house that I promptly got a membership to. Whenever I was home in August and September, I made hour appointments any day I could fit them in.

I’ve already mentioned that I was overjoyed to reunite with all of my people after being alone a lot of the season prior to USAs. I also had incredible experiences abroad like I always try to (I truly love this global life and the fantastic women I get to be friends with), but for some reason this year, I just needed to be home more. Kick-starting that with a great, fun time at USATF Outdoor Nationals was a good place to start. Having conversations with Dana about just feeling my feelings, getting angry if I needed to, and letting out whatever frustrations had built up over the first part of the season was also huge. My only throwing session at home between Nationals and Pan-Ams was SO fun, not because it went well the whole time, but because I finally just felt whatever I needed to feel. I tend to try and talk myself down from whatever disappointment or frustration I have going on: “It’ll be okay,” “Just stay the course,” “Don’t be dramatic.” But sometimes it’s fun to yell. One or two sessions a year, I fall on the ground in anguish after a terrible throw. I hadn’t lost it yet in 2019, and I finally felt free to.

I also was, again, super honest with Jamie about wanting to be mentally challenged in my training just a little bit more. It felt to me like javelin was the scariest thing I did physically up to that point, and I like the challenge of asking more of my body in different ways so that I’m not ONLY pushing the envelope when I pick up my implement. So he programmed box jumps for supersets in some of my lifts. Then it’s up to me just how brave I want to be in another area of training, so that being brave in the throw is easier. That sounds kind of dumb? But it changed soooo much.

Pan-Ams, though, was at the end of the training block that included Nationals. So nothing changed physically between Nationals and one of the best series of my life in Peru. My one dramatic practice at home showed me how to finally move through the throw again and keep my shoulders level (I’d had too much lean back up to that point, especially in Des Moines), and my very last practice on Wednesday of Pan-Ams week in Lima was when I reverted to my old grip! So I learned at USAs that I needed to freaking relax/let myself live my life, that I absolutely love being around my friends and having a great time with them, and that small changes in technique could mean big changes in performance. Then I acted on those things for the rest of the year. SO FUN.

“What is the biggest thing you learned this year?”

I think to capitalize on my own time. I stopped letting people waste mine as much, and started using it for detailed things that made me feel strong.

That’s taking ten minutes at the end of practice to stay and do core. That means removing myself from my home if Maddie needs too much attention that day and I need to get something done (as much as I love her). I love packing three bags for a day away from home, when I have training, a lunch, and maybe a tour at the Olympic Training Center, or helping Dana at USAFA. I’m done letting people suck energy from me and all about being around those who fill me with it and vice versa. I used to spend a lot of time being careful to preserve my alone time at competitions and needing to make sure I got “the right kind of rest.” That’s silly and stressful in itself! I love so much more laughing constantly with friends on teams, knowing that the bonds we share go so much further than track and field, but that we’re helping each other in that arena, too.

I just think I learned to trust myself. That started in 2018 when Jamie, Dana and I teamed up and I was writing my warm-ups and being relied upon to give more input on my training than I had ever before, not knowing if I was up to the task. It continued this year when I made decisions to step back from relationships that didn’t serve me and listen to my instincts. And I can’t wait to continue that trend with amazing people by my side.

“How do you work around chronic pains or overtraining issues?”

My most frustrating and nagging chronic pain for the past four or so years (since my left shoulder surgery/the 2015 season) has been thoracic spine tightness and associated muscle spasms when I don’t pay enough attention to it.

I’ll be a little run down, have not slept enough recently, or am just not paying close enough attention to details like foam rolling at night or specific thoracic mobility exercises. I’ll have done too many throws without undoing the unilateral stress by taking a swim. Any number of things can throw my thoracic spine/ribs out of whack, and then one incorrectly-sequenced pull or slightly too-heavy bench in the weight room sidelines me for about a week.

I have to rest. This issue probably happens three times per year? And usually I push it to return too quickly the first time, so I’m on minimal training for more like two weeks until I actually recover. After about three days, my back relaxes enough that I can do light lifting, strides, maybe footwork, and possibly seated medball throws. About a week after a spasm, I’m able to get back to throwing balls or javelins, but I do extra warm-up work and keep the intensity down until I feel 100% again.

Chronic pain or overtraining means you need rest. You can still do things that are physical, but you have to move away from the things that are causing you pain and suffering. Go in the hot tub. Run on the beach if you have one. Go for a hike. Do yoga. Better yet, if you live in a cold place like me, do hot yoga! One simple week of down time WILL NOT derail your fitness or your season. Dan O’Brien told me once, “Sacrifice the day to save the week, the week to save the month, and the month to save the season.” I have never forgotten it, even if I’m stubborn the first time I’m confronted with that choice. I take the opportunity to cook better meals for myself, cuddle with my dog and husband more, and focus on things other than javelin when I feel this way. Then, when I can do javelin things again, everything is fresh and ready to go.

“How to keep and format a training journal.”

This is personal preference! I have been using this training journal for the last two years, and while it’s written for runners, the idea that you have limited space to write each day, but opportunity to reflect on bigger pictures periodically is really great for me. I haven’t been good at limiting my wordiness in the past, so being forced to be brief and to-the-point works really well for me.

This year, I’ll be using Brenda Martinez’s training journal! Same concept: Dates you can fill in, enough space to record what you did that day (training and otherwise), maybe rate the effort, and then move on with your life is great. I never want to get bogged down with a training journal’s moodiness. If I do, I’ll stop doing it. But that’s also individual.

My entries include:

1.       Date

2.       Type of training (ball day/javelin day/lifting day/recovery day/off)

3.       Happy/sad/whatever face ranking

4.       Key technical things that I loved or want to improve on. I have volume and intensity and actual weights used (implements or weight room amounts) on my training pages so I don’t bother to do that twice. I can cross-reference by date if I need to.

5.       Other stuff that I did that day, including sports med treatment, tours I give maybe, social stuff, and perhaps a fun thing with Maddie (lake trip, long walk, etc.).

“What are some key points that led to such a great year for you?”

Jamie Myers and Dana Lyon, and the mutual trust that I have in them and they in me. Friendship, both domestic and international. Love and realistic, honest support and feedback from Russ. Having a teammate who is one of my very closest friends and pushes me personally and athletically. The opportunity and wake-up call to focus on Pan-Ams, The Match, and World Championships after not collecting enough points to qualify for the Diamond League Final. Agents who have been so incredibly supportive and understanding for ten years. The bravery to say no to a sponsor relationship that no longer served me, and ultimately led to new ones that feel much better in my life.

“How you trust in the process of the season as a whole! Especially in fall haha. 😊”

Focus on little victories every day. Rehab from two different big surgeries really helped me learn this lesson in every day training as well. Even at the end of the year when you’re approaching the really big meets, you’re STILL not going to build Rome in a day. You can just build on what you’ve done in the days, weeks, and months before. That starts in the fall, so recognize one thing you improve on in each training day. Add one simple kilo to the bar on each power clean. Turn your right foot over the tiniest bit faster in each new javelin session. Keep your arm back one millimeter more. Hold a plank for ten extra seconds. Do SOMETHING that objectively tells you you’re improving, and trust that consistent work like that will take you so, so far.

The process of building day by day starts with having a big goal in mind, too. So figure out what that is, put it in measurable terms, and work with your people to establish steps that will get you there. If you hit a roadblock, readjust the steps. Any progress toward a huge goal is big progress, so recognize that fact when you hit milestones, and take the time to celebrate the small victories.

“What was your biggest focus with regard to your javelin technique?”

After USAs (and that one dramatic practice), I had three big things in mind.

1.       Keep my momentum GOING, ALL the way through the throw. I accomplished this by thinking about squeezing my left butt cheek at the block and being sure to push BOTH of my hips into the throw instead of letting my body pike as I threw the javelin. I had some left hip pain that showed up in July and stuck with me, and actively using that hip was one of the only ways I avoided pain at the block actually, so luckily that also meant good acceleration all the way through my throw. The second half of this is trusting my impulse: I need to have a really strong last left strike to power through my impulse step and encourage myself to be patient in putting my right foot down and then driving that right knee to the ground to set up good timing and keep good speed. When my impulse isn’t powerful, I feel like I need to create speed, paw back at the ground with my right foot to do so (which is fake news), which then slows my left foot touchdown and makes my hips pike. Strong impulse, strong left hip and glute.

2.       Level shoulders. I was leaning back too much prior to and at Nationals, and needed to level out my hips and shoulders so that I COULD accomplish the efficient acceleration mentioned above. When you lean back too much in the name of keeping your throwing arm long, it’s much easier to slow down through your crossovers and let your right-to-left timing be slow. That’s what was happening to me, so then I was open at release and shortened my pull drastically. Leveling everything out let me feel athletic and powerful all the way through the throw. Part of accomplishing this was reaching past my right SIDE with my left arm rather than as drastically up and obliquely to stay closed. I swung my left arm aggressively ACROSS my body instead of letting it drift up. The double whammy was that this action let me stay closed longer, especially when I was accomplishing point one well.

3.       Kind of an appendix, but a fun story and not a coincidence as far as success and turning my season around: I went back to the European grip. I tried the American grip all season, through Nationals. I really liked it for controlling the tip of the javelin, and I threw pretty far using it, but I just didn’t feel like myself. It was really, really hard for me to relax and feel any length in my arm with the American grip. I was tighter through my shoulder in that very slightly different position, and my elbow felt the pressure in different ways than I was used to. In that one dramatic practice between USAs and Pan-Ams, Dana actually said out loud what we had both been thinking for a while (that I should go back to what I know and love). I did, and after one practice, felt completely like me again. A crazy confidence boost.

“How did the overall season go and what is a major change you want to be doing.”

Loved this season for all of its richness. Was fairly devastated and ready to just enjoy being with teammates and cheering them on when all of a sudden my fortunes changed with just a few thoughtful adjustments. Then had my best results ever internationally.

I want to lock in the technical things I just mentioned for next year. I felt like I was just barely getting a grasp on using those repeatedly at the end of the year, and then the nerves of Worlds got to me and I didn’t execute them at all in Doha. It was really neat to still do well despite falling apart a little technically, and that would not have been possible in the middle of the season. So I want to really cultivate this attitude of gratitude and intention and Friendship with teammates and my coaches, continue to work hard and smart, and actually execute technically while having a blast in Tokyo.

“What do you attribute to your success in the bigger meets this year? (Match and Worlds)?”

Mentality. Have a blast with friends. Be a good teammate. Know that they’re going to do well and that it’s fun if I do well, too. Represent the people I love well. Recognize that I’ve put so much in to this career and that there’s no reason it shouldn’t be fun and go well, especially now that I work with the right people. WHY NOT SUCCEED.

Also re-discovering good technique, especially for Pan-Ams and The Match. Like I just said though, I felt like that fell apart at Worlds, and that my success there was so largely based on Jamie preparing me so well for it physically. Obviously I had some remnants of the technique I’d been using, but it could have been soooo much better. I’m hungry for more. 😊

“You are great thrower”

Thank you, all of you, so much.

Body Image: You do You

I’m proud of my body. I like it. I’ve had the unfortunate opportunity to be amazed by its healing powers. I’ve had the empowering opportunity to be amazed by its athleticism in multiple instances; lifting, throwing, jumping, soccer, swimming, backpacking, manual labor, muscle-ups, and more. But I don’t like to show it off.

In 2010, I had what some might say still was the season of my life. At this point, I disagree with that sentiment, but it was really good, and I was bursting onto the international scene at the same time as the ESPN Body Issue was also gaining ground. They called me at the end of that season to see if I’d like to pose, nude, for their photographers. Many have called that experience empowering. A lot of people would jump at the chance. I know women who have hired their own photographers to capture such memories. I do think the imagery is beautiful. I’m amazed by the human body every day. It’s a gorgeous conundrum in all its forms. I said no thank you. And I adore the photos that come from every issue and the message of each woman who chooses to do it. It’s just not for me.

I have almost never been self-conscious about my appearance, save the adult acne era of 2014-2016. I was pretty darn gangly in high school before I lifted a weight, but the ladies came in strong sophomore year, so I usually did my best to cover them with too-large shirts and smushing sports bras. I still prefer to smother them in the name of support, but I also am proud to have them? I could never claim to be a fashionista (I even think that word is outdated), but I do enjoy getting dressed up. I’m just equally comfortable going to the grocery store in sweatpants and UGGs as skinny jeans and heeled booties.

To revisit 2010, I weighed between 180 and 185 pounds during that competitive season. My first Olympic team (2008) saw me at about the same competitive weight. Ever since the Nutter-Butter-fueled year of 2004-2005 (my Freshman year, surprise), I’ve threatened the 200-pound mark in the early and off-season, then leaned out through the spring and summer. In the ill-advised lean years of 2011 and 2012, I was only 175# most of the time. This spring, I finally hit 2 bills. When I visited Chula Vista in March, one of my favorites, Darrell Hill, asked me if I was lighter than normal. My response of, “I’m actually the heaviest I’ve ever been,” garnered an exclamation of, “Oh, sh*t!!!” from him. And that’s how I’ve felt all year: “Oh, sh*t,” in the best possible way.

2008, Beijing.

2008, Beijing.

I only leaned out to 192 pounds in 2019, and I only know that thanks to nightly weigh-ins in Doha with Ari, who needs every pound she can get. That is her path. We have different ones, though I quite enjoy that they converge often (literal best roommate ever).

Doha, 2019.

Doha, 2019.

Age is just a number, and so is weight. Perspective on both only happens when you take the time to reflect on why you feel how you feel, and what you can do to feel more confident in your skin. Which pieces of your life can be shifted to create mirrors that show you your worth in your physical shape, if you need that. How you can prepare for a future in which you’re surrounded by humans who remind you that you’re enough, however you are in any moment. People who encourage you toward your goals with only positivity.

 

Among the more hurtful things that I’ve ever heard about my body are as follows:

From a boyfriend who preceded me lifting any weights: “I’m glad we broke up, because I don’t like girls who look like you.”

From a friend of a friend, after seeing me in a swimsuit, a statement to the effect of: “The way you look is achievable. Other people are in too good of shape.”

 

I’ve had a number of photo shoots that I never see the result of, and I’m always left wondering if post-processing becomes cost-prohibitive. Getting positive feedback from photographers, feeling confident, and then being told that the photos didn’t make the cut is more devastating than not having the photo shoot in the first place. The thought of, “I’ve made it!!!!” followed by radio silence, hurts.

These photos, by the incredibly talented Donald Miralle, are some that I’m really proud of. I was confident enough to take off my shirt, sure, but they didn’t make the ESPN the Magazine issue that they were supposed to, and now they exist just in Donald’s portfolio (which feels appropriate, as he has been an awesome encourager). I was 24, and I’m glad to have the time capsule, but something I also think about when I happen upon them is how uncomfortable I was in that moment. And that’s not on Donald. I elected to remove my shirt, because I thought I was supposed to. I like the ring photos alright, but by contrast, the images he made of me outside, shirt-on, still make me feel more powerful than almost anything in the world.

Donald Miralle, all rights reserved. Available for purchase in his portfolio.

Donald Miralle, all rights reserved. Available for purchase in his portfolio.

I’ve been across the spectrum. I’ve been objectively successful as a javelin thrower at every weight I’ve ever been as a developed human. I compete against shredded women. Their story is not mine. I’m not successful if I’m shredded* (read that as, *as shredded as they are). And the times I’ve been most self-conscious about my body are when I make questionable fashion choices and then they get photographed. But you know what? If smartphones weren’t fixtures in every area of our lives and I wasn’t a Generation 1 Facebook user, that photo evidence of my awkwardness wouldn’t exist, and I would just be left with fun memories of great times in the skin I’m in. You can be confident but also not want to show yourself off. You can be self-conscious but fake it ‘till you make it. You can be any combination of the two. Be you.

What’s your goal? Is it to be totally jacked? Do you want minimal body fat percentage? Is that a weight/composition that produces the results you desire? Do you want to throw (the javelin) super far? If you can do both, awesome. Go for it. You do you. I simply can’t. My body literally breaks. In minor ways first, and if I ignore those enough, in really major ways.

I need some meat on my bones to throw really far, and the irony is that I’ve never been happier with my body than I was this year, when it was most dense. Objective body measurements mean nothing if you’re not happy and not achieving your goals. Perhaps I’ll continue to lean out during 2020 and 2021, but maybe not. As long as I’m feeling strong and powerful and focusing on the things that truly worked for me at the end of this season, I won’t care about the visual product. I’m too…wise for that. I encourage you to get there, too.

Pumpkincident

I feel ready to share this story, because while my last two meets have been more than sub-par (sub-sub-par?), my training and overall results to this point in the season haven’t been impacted by this now-ridiculous and somewhat funny story like I feared in my soul they might be. This story is also partly why I changed the way I grip the javelin handle!

When are pumpkins dangerous?

Short answer: If you’re an idiot.

Long answer:

In the fall, I carved a beautiful pumpkin. I’m actually really good at this. If I use a template, you know, like from the booklet with the little tools plasticked on the front. If I drew one and followed that I’d probably be pretty good too, but freehand would be trash, I can guarantee it. But I pay attention to detail, I take my time, and they turn out great. Usually.

Alien! So cute.

Alien! So cute.

I took him home, lit him up for trick-or-treaters the next day, woo. They had extra pumpkins at the Olympic Training Center, I needed to be there later the next day anyway, and I had nothing better to do, so I decided to carve two more pumpkins! One was to gloriously proclaim “Team USA” and I planned for the other to be the Olympic City USA logo. Training Center pumpkins for fun!

I had not purchased these pumpkins, nor the knife (a brand new, sharp one of the paring variety) with which I carved the holes in the tops of them. I was not at home. I did bring my own pumpkin-carving tools because I’m extra about crafts, but had no other useful tools to speak of, and neither was I familiar with what might be available to me on campus in that regard. I’m just carving pumpkins. Should be simple.

After carving the holes in the tops of both pumpkins (in zigzag formation, because duh), I prepared to remove the tops to extract the guts. One pumpkin had a nice stem to grab and pull on. The other did not! Problem.

I turned that pumpkin upside down. I attempted to push the lid into the pumpkin guts. But I masterfully carve the zigzag pattern also at an angle so that the lid won’t fall into the pumpkin after the little bit of drying we all know happens (instantly in Colorado). So no dice there. I just could not get purchase on this blunt little stem to pull the lid off, which maybe means I should work on my grip strength.

What to do…

Pumpkin-carving knife (from the little toolkit…serrated, very dull but effective for slicing pumpkin meat) in right hand, paring knife (brand new, pointed at the tip, very sharp and effective for stabbing…other…meat) in left hand, I approached the pumpkin. Wedged each knife into the zigzaggy hole’s respective sides, and attempted to pry the lid off by applying inward and upward pressure. I had been at this lid extraction operation for at least ten minutes with no progress made. I’d gotten impatient. I’d gotten DUMB. After a few seconds of maximal effort, I think maybe this isn’t the best idea, so I begin to release the pumpkin pressure I’m applying, and as I’m right-handed, my right hand obeys that command first.

Now my right (throwing) hand is facing my left (paring-knife-holding) hand. The instant pressure wasn’t being applied to the other side of the pumpkin lid anymore, ol’ lefty’s knife came rocketing out at the same orientation it was being pushed while still in the pumpkin (inward and upward). I did not even see it happen, just felt a sudden, very deep, very achy ache in the bottom of my right palm. The thickest part. The palm bottom margin.

I don’t remember extracting the knife from my flesh. I also can’t remember ever having a cut that was white before red (besides maybe missed-box jump shin scrapes, amirite). But there was no blood when I looked at my hand, and then all of a sudden there waaaaas. I cupped my hand and hustled to a paper towel dispenser. I made sure to put the (not bloody, because I stab that fast) knife down on the newspapers I had there to protect the surface from pumpkin-not human-flesh, and then I hustled to Sports Med. It was cold outside. I didn’t put on a jacket. I was terrified.

I’ve never had subcutaneous fat nudged back inside a wound before. I didn’t get stitches, but I did get steri-strips and a bunch of hand specialist visits. I absolutely grastoned the crap out of my wound once it healed over. I did that thing where you obsessively check in on an injury like every hour to “make sure” it’s healing okay even though you can’t tell cuz you’re not an expert. I followed the doctor and my therapy team’s instructions to the letter. I’ve done more nerve glides this year than ever in history because I must not allow this really dumb thing that I did to impact my career.

The result of this incision (because really I just performed amateur, unnecessary surgery on a small part of my hand) is that I seriously damaged and maybe severed the palmar cutaneous branch of my median nerve. It might continue to grow back, and it might not. Typically any nerve growth that’s going to happen at a surgical site will happen within 18 months, and you can help it along by exfoliating the area to activate the subcutaneous nerves. But the bigger ones are a lot more difficult-if not impossible-to regrow. Luckily, this little branch of my median nerve just controls the sensation in a little part of my palm (hence palmar). We didn’t know for a while if it was going to be more of the median nerve, which reaches some of your fingers and actually goes through your carpal tunnel, and could present other, more serious problems. I could have developed a neuroma at the stab site, which would mean weird and difficult-to-treat pain there and with associated movement. That was my main worry for months, because there were times that I would get shooting nerve pain up my hand from that spot!

I made this video to show you my hand-stabbing aftermath. I posted some of these on my insta-story but they were somewhat of a mystery until now, unless you know me.

If my silly left hand had stabbed my wrist, we all know how terrible that could have been. The middle of your palm has tons of tendons and nerves, so that would have spelled disaster. And the fingers are just too delicate to want a stabby knife anywhere near. Pumpkins cause injury (correlation not causation haha). Srsly, more than 3000 people were injured carving pumpkins in 2017. Please be careful. The nurse told me at my week check-up that a lady came in the afternoon of my first appointment with a pumpkin injury and needed emergency surgery to repair the finger tendons she had sliced through.

I was soooooo lucky. And I colored those dumb pumpkins.

Obviously could only hold one pumpkin at a time post-stabbing.

Obviously could only hold one pumpkin at a time post-stabbing.

I’ve wanted to change my grip for a while now, just because. I thought it might help my tip control anyway (it has for the most part), and since I didn’t know how my hand was going to fully heal and if I’d need to incorporate more fingers to compensate for this pumpkin accident, why not now? It’s been a hilarious second reason to change my grip, and after much worry, a great story.

SB so far: 63.11m in Rome, which is further than I had thrown last year before Zurich. Neat.

SB so far: 63.11m in Rome, which is further than I had thrown last year before Zurich. Neat.

I can do hand planks, hang for pull-ups and support myself on rings and parallel bars, catch cleans and snatches, bench, etc. absolutely no problem. This ridiculous stabbing has had zero impact on how I train and how my body feels. I just might not carve a pumpkin again before the Olympic year.

Why I Fail

On Saturday, I failed to perform in Jena. Am I devastated? No! But I’m absolutely disappointed and a little embarrassed (although whatever, my process is my process). I threw well in Rome. I threw well in Halle. I had an overall great trip to Europe for three weeks! But finishing it off that way leaves a bad taste in my mouth, and motivation to understand my own brain and failures moving forward in this long season. I want to share two big reasons why I fail. These aren’t specific to Jena: I do the same technical things wrong consistently, and I let self-doubt creep in after being alone for a while.

Ich liebe Hallesche Werfertage!

Ich liebe Hallesche Werfertage!

Trusting myself has always seemed normal to me. I blame good parenting! I know I put the work in. I know I have what it takes. I know that I care the most about the outcome (team situations were frustrating for me and I’ve been let down by people). But when I have any little dent in my independence armor and there’s someone there to lean on, I leeeeaaaan.

It’s my problem, not those willing and helpful peoples’ issue. I need better blinders, and to trust my own instincts, not necessarily in competition (I’m good at that), but when things don’t go as planned surrounding it. Long travel day? Go to the pool instead. Only bus later than I hope to go to the meet? Roll with it and shorten the warm-up when I know I’ll have a warm place to do so (prioritize the throwing stuff). Extra worried about my body throwing twice within 3 days? Strengthen the mind with visualization rather than just ignoring the negativity. And do all the mobility and core rather than just resting and hoping to feel better! I’ve always been good at following instructions. I’m coachable! And I highly value Jamie’s input into my training and competition preparation plan. But I also know he’s open to my feedback. For whatever reason, when I don’t feel good but know I have a meet coming up, I put my head down and stick stubbornly to the plan rather than expressing what I know, 99% of the time, we’ll both agree with. I should have gone to the pool on Friday after leaving the Rome hotel at 7:30am and arriving in Jena at 5:30pm, sweating all day. I could have done some core in my room first, then swam some laps, sprinted a little, and relaxed, weightless. I didn’t. Dummy.

There’s this saying that the hay is in the barn. Have you ever been around a farm? Animals need more than hay. My Mom’s horses get a carefully concocted mixture of hay, fancy hay, beet pulp, grains, various vitamins, and of course, love. The hay may be in the barn before big competitions (whatever “big” means to you: Every meet can feel big at this level), but you still need grains to finish the job. To do it right. I’ve ignored that instinct one too many times, and I’m finally processing it. Before Zurich and after Rovereto last year, I was finally brave enough to focus fully on what I wanted, and harvest the grain of mental fortitude and specific mobility and stability in those last days and moments. To do things I know make me feel invincible in this post-ACL, different-for-me era. I can be more successful. I just also have to be braver in looking my big, scary goals in the face and taking care of the details that can get me there.

My technical mistakes are always the same. They present themselves as “losing the tip” or “forward,” which in Jena’s left head/crosswind was a disaster. But actually it all starts for me with my right foot. And really my left foot. I spent 8 years solidifying a habit of striking backward with my right leg after my impulse, which I could get away with because of the gift of shoulder mobility. I look forward to lumbar arthritis as a result of hyperextension of that area for close to a decade as well (and more since I’m still not 100% disciplined). Anyway, with tiredness and some soreness (I’m very good at managing stiffness/being dinged up in one area, but 2/3/4 gets harder) comes timidity and lazy legs. Even though I know my legs were the reasons for 62.08m in Halle and 63.11m in Rome, I willed them to go and they just wouldn’t!

On Saturday, I let people (who are not Dana) tell me what to do. I already know what to do, and what they told me would have been accomplished by my strategy (specifically steps 2 and 3), but I allowed myself to be distracted by input.

I need to:

1.       Gradually accelerate down the runway.

2.       Hit a strong impulse after already using my left leg as a driver in crossovers.

3.       Be patient in my tunnel of power (knee up/toe up and left arm closed), wait for the ground with my right foot.

4.       Drive my right knee to the ground immediately upon right foot contact while keeping left arm closed.

5.       Keep the handle of the javelin “hidden” from the sector right behind my head.

6.       Be a freaking tree in my left leg.

7.       Push my chest forward after all of that happens.

8.       Watch the jav soooooar.

Everything happens if I hit an impulse and actually wait for the ground. But when I allow myself to be distracted, I focus on the end result rather than the key step that will lead to that result. In a headwind, that’s “keep the tip down,” “control the tip,” and “tip by your eye.” When I think about that cue, my only focus becomes keeping my chest up, which gets me tall in my legs and forward, not allowing good, powerful leg action. Inactive legs mean no impulse, and the body’s rush to create speed with a pawing right foot and pressure behind me rather than under me, forcing me forward more. A pushy right means I don’t have to snap a solid block down, because I feel support from a leg (the right). The left arm swings open for balance and because there’s time, and the right arm follows suit by swinging around. I try to maintain connection with the implement by extending/breaking my wrist, both skyrocketing the javelin and not applying energy to it.

My face sometimes.

My face sometimes.

It’s tough to break the self-doubt cycle in the midst of a competition, especially when you have excuses (four travel days and three meets in a week, end of 6-week trip, two days after the most intensity my body has felt in throwing in months, headwind, etc.). But I’m sick of it. Details are important and empowering. Let them be by allowing yourself to pay attention to them. Trust yourself, even when you’re tired, by practicing mental toughness, however you harness it. Change your cycle. Be better!

Representing Others

I’ve struggled from the get-go with the enormous idea of representing the United States on a global scale. From the outset, that was too much, too big, too fast, too scary to be my life. It took me a long, long, long time to get comfortable conceptualizing the fact that I was representing my Grandma. Russ. My friends. Rather than The Country, and allowing that sharper focus to fuel me instead of letting the pulled-back version crush me. 

I’m more comfortable with the big picture now, because over time, I’ve figured out that attention is positive: People want to see something amazing. I want to do amazing things, so we’re all on the same page. 

In 2018, I got new stimuli. I finally stepped away from a coaching situation that hadn’t been serving me for years, but wasn’t really a problem until 2017. Dana is patient and honest and tough and has a specific idea of how she wants me to throw, and Jamie knowing me for a decade now means the changes we made in my training had me finally prepared at the right time. Rejuvenation is not an understatement. I felt completely different, and a big part of that was being 100% sure that my team and I had the same goals and communicated about them clearly. We have shared values in how we work together. We fit. 

I want to “fit” with other things I align myself with. I want to continue experiencing the positive stimulus of newness that I’ve recently remembered is powerful and helps me thrive. I want to be in the business of representing things that I truly believe in, not that I’m just in the habit of doing or wearing or buying.

I want to further define the faces I’m representing. I want to bring things that we’re all likely passionate about into the spotlight, and relate those things to my career. It doesn’t matter if this idea brings $5 or $500 to the organizations I have in mind, as long as I know on the runway in competitions around the world that my performances will contribute to something more than just my mortgage and Maddie’s kibbles.

I don’t know about you, but I tried REALLY hard at my elementary school jog- and swim-a-thons. Something about knowing specifically who had pledged to support me gave my willpower a huge boost! 

IMG_2349.jpeg

In the Trond Mohn Games, I wore a 4Ocean bracelet and my Dave bracelet. I put a sticker made by Lauren McCluskey’s family on my shoes to bring her back to the javelin runway in a small way after a tragic and far-too-early death. I’ve had a pair of shoes painted to represent a lot of things that I believe in, and I can’t wait to sport them throughout the world in 2019 (and give you a tour of their meaning when I get home). There are so many things that are bigger than me and sport, and I want to keep them in my consciousness as I continue to do this thing that I love. Athletes in bigger, more popular American sports get to start their own foundations and contribute significant funds to those causes. I’ve made a better living than I ever thought possible throwing the javelin, but not enough to do something like that. So support me, sure, please, but mostly help me feel like I’m making a bigger difference than JUST representing the U.S. in javelin competitions. Help me achieve my athletic dreams, but also dreams about contributing to positive movements in the world. 

I’ve written about representing others before, and a big part of what I think about at practice often remains the military since I wrote that Facebook post long ago. I want to take that a step further by inviting you along. 

I’m not afraid to feel deeply. In both directions. I love the richness of emotion actually, and I think I have sport to thank for learning that in a lot of ways. I want to further enhance the experience. Tying meaningful organizations to my performances feels like a significant way to do it. 

Each meet this season, you can pledge a flat donation or a per-distance rate to contribute to a cause via the campaigns I create at PledgeIt! I want you to know beforehand what you’re contributing to, and I’d be thrilled to get information from you on stuff you’re passionate about. 

I’m starting with Semper Fi Fund. They support military veterans in many ways after they come home from war. My friends who have served tell me they’re the best: They do what they say, tirelessly and in creative ways to actually make a difference. They’re female-founded. Their mission to serve those who protect us makes me proud to be an American. Pledge or donate here!! I’ve linked both the Rome Diamond League on Thursday and Saturday’s JenJavelin Festival to this campaign. I’d love your help!

In Memoriam

Many Americans celebrate Memorial Day. Each year, I watch the “Thank You, Veterans!” posts roll in, and each year I’m frustrated that we just don’t seem to understand the reason for the day.

I wrote this Facebook post in 2016. It’s not about Memorial Day, but I wanted to share it again because it’s a reason I care so much about defining the different military holidays. Also, a lady in a postal store recently told me, “Thank you for your service,” and I was mad about it all over again, both because every serviceman and -woman I know hates that and because I don’t deserve it.

Memorial: “A statue or structure established to remind people of a person or event.”

In Memoriam: “In memory of (a dead person).”

In 1996, it was re-discovered that freed slaves in Charleston, South Carolina exhumed the bodies of 260 Union soldiers at a racetrack where they had been buried en masse, reinterred them with honor, and then held a parade at said racetrack on May 1, 1865, less than a month after the Confederacy surrendered. What an incredible first Memorial Day. Another official “first celebration” happened in Waterloo, New York on May 5, 1866, just after the Civil War (which is still America’s single bloodiest at 620,000-750,000 casualties). What officially started as Decoration Day for fallen Civil War soldiers happened on May 30, 1868 at Arlington National Cemetary, and continued as an organized event in the northern states. After WWI’s ~116,500 soldiers fell, all of our military personnel who die fighting our wars are honored on what gradually become known as Memorial Day nationwide.

Here is a VA factsheet on America’s Wars, including battle deaths and those that occurred in theater (any area that is or might become involved in war operations) or were nontheater (perhaps died outside the warzone but had been injured in the course of war, or in a training accident preparing for battle, or any number of things). I urge you to glance at it. Then move on to this Department of Defense Casualty Status Release, which describes in simple, stark, emotionless numbers the cost of American military life in the ongoing War on Terror.

I don’t know everything. Not at all. The more I live, the more I realize how much I don’t know and how much I haven’t seen! But I do know that Memorial Day is about honoring those military members who have made the ultimate sacrifice. That sentiment doesn’t have to get political, either. Just think about the powerful, heart-wrenching, permanent truth of death at war for a minute. If you’re lucky, you haven’t lost someone close to you, but take a moment to consider those who have. Show the families left behind the respect of recognizing what this day is really about, and be okay with feeling deeply in the sad direction in a show of solidarity and appreciation. You get to do that just for today.

Don’t say, “Happy Memorial Day.” Honoring the dead is much different from happiness for loved ones who miss them terribly. Accompany someone to a gravesite-if they want you to. Let them lead any conversation that might happen (be okay with sad silence). Laugh through pain if possible, but also be okay just feeling grief, together.

Thank you to those who gave everything.

Packing

I am currently on the road, in Chula Vista training before I go from here to Europe for my first competitions of the 2019 season!! I left home on May 1 and will return to Colorado on June 9.

Here is a video I made of me packing!! It’s long, but perhaps entertaining? If you’re looking for this specific kind of video. The equally interesting blog follows.

These are things you actually need while traveling as an athlete:

  1. Competition Shoes.

  2. Wallet/Purse (with passport if traveling internationally).

You can purchase EVERYTHING else. And you can also purchase competition shoes if you really need to. So just try to stop worrying about having stuff. I often pack all my crap, then when I’m walking out the door and I know I have way more than I need, I think to myself as I’m locking up, “Why do I need a house??? I have everything I need here with me.” Except for Maddie and Russ, but that’s a different story. It’s a really freeing feeling to finally realize that you’re going to be fine if you forget a few things.

All of that being said, I do like to feel prepared. I’m going to blog about my entire packing process! My strategy is to pack for about a week clothes-wise (and really that turns into closer to two weeks’ worth of stuff). I bring extra toiletries in travel sizes to continue making my suitcase lighter as I go (and I’m taking steps toward sustainability in travel because I’m sick of going through so much plastic container waste), and have the same strategy with snacks. I like to carry Tide Pods for laundry in Europe because that’s the part of European laundry that stresses me out the most (figuring out how to buy detergent in local-language laundromats). I bring a fair amount of electronics, but technology these days means that my entertainment devices are light and manageable and have good battery life (and fairly compact chargers). Therapy tools are just part of my training gear and something I don’t think twice about bringing. I only get one suitcase to check, because my second checked bag is my javelins, so I have to be smart about my packing, and I’ve grown to love the challenge and (to me) simplicity.

Since I bring javelins, everything I carry looks like a lot. I get asked often if I need help wielding my luggage, but that’s only because people see the giant javelin tube and are unfamiliar with it. I’ve been traveling with javelins for nearing two decades, so I am very, very used to fitting them through doorways and into overhead spaces in train cars and through folded-down rental car or Uber backseats. I know to watch the ceiling height as I go up an escalator. It’s easier for me to take an escalator than a European elevator that might be just big enough. The fact that all I have besides my javelin tube is a suitcase, backpack and small duffel bag makes my job really easy, it’s just that people don’t perceive it that way. I love being self-sufficient and mobile on long travel days by packing as light as I can. Read last summer’s travel blog!

The bottom line in packing is to pack the essentials, and then a few things that bring you joy. I have this towel turban that I wear around my house after I wash my hair, often. It’s not something I usually pack, but if I need a little pick-me-up on a trip, throwing that in my bag is a super simple way to stay connected to home and little luxuries! The combination lock I take to the gym is nice for me to have on the road, because I really love finding pools to swim in all over the world, and that experience is so much more fun when I’m not worried about getting robbed. My USB mouse is not an essential by any means, but it makes me happy.

Here are some lists of what I pack, complete and arranged in the way in which my brain works:

Javelins:

               RockBack Case
               4 javelins (usually all Nemeths)
               a pair of socks per javelin
               some sponges in there with the bbs to keep them safe

Suitcase:

Side one:

Snacks (see video) in eBags packing cube
               extra toiletries (see video) in eBags packing cube
               Training and competition clothes:
                              Long tights
                              Short tights
                              A few pairs of shorts
                              maybe a pair of sweats
                              Tank tops
                              Short-sleeved shirts
                              Long-sleeved shirts
                              Jackets/sweatshirts

Side two:

Sandals/flip flops
               a pair of regular shoes of some kind
                              8 or so pairs of socks stuffed in the shoes
               extra javelin shoes and spikes
               Foam Roller, with these inside:
                              Lacrosse ball
                              some KT tape
                              underwear (7-9 pairs)
               hat, stuffed with the following:
                              Real bra
                              bikini if I feel like it
                              warm hat and gloves
                              lap swimsuit
                              swim cap and goggles
               Sports Bras. I bring a lot a lot.
               Regular clothes:
                              a pair of shorts
                              a pair of jeans
                              a few tank tops
                              a few short sleeve shirts
                              a couple sweaters/long sleeves
                              A rain jacket
                              Perhaps a dress that I won’t wear but I’ll pretend I might

Small duffel bag (sits on top of the suitcase as you roll through the airport, gets carried on the plane):

               Competition shoes
               Competition uniform
               Field hockey ball
               a few snacks
               pajamas (underwear and a tank top for me)
               Liquids/gels/aerosols in their 1-quart container
               Other essential toiletries in an eBags packing cube
               my small makeup bag
               a small padlock
               knee compression sleeve
               compression socks

Backpack:

               Laptop & charger
               wireless mouse
               iPad (with earbuds) & charger
               GoPro & charger
               portable battery & charger
               Noise-cancelling headphones
               wireless earbuds
               power/outlet converters & safety pins
               Notebook with training pages
               Training journal
               a few nice pens
               water bottle
               glasses
               sunglasses
               a few snacks
               neck pillow/eye mask

Snacks (in an eBags packing cube in the suitcase):

               Instant oatmeal packets
               Dried fruit
               Peanut butter packets
               Rx bars
               Peaceful Fruits
               Crystal Light/Propel/Gatorade packets
               Instant coffee or espresso
               Powdered coconut milk creamer
               some chocolate

Toiletries (in an eBags packing cube in the suitcase):

               Shampoos and conditioners
               Facewash
               Face lotion
               sunscreen
               floss/mouthwash/toothpaste
               feminine products
               nailcare kit/toenail polish/toe separators
               extra hairties and bobby pins
               razor/razor blades
               contacts
               deodorant
               cleansing wipes
               dry shampoo
              

I always wear my training shoes on the plane in case I have to run through an airport (common occurrence). After I get through security with my backpack and duffel bag, I often decide what I’m going to do on the plane and transfer those things to my backpack and the things I won’t use from my backpack to the duffel bag. I just like to pack each bag the same way each time so that I know that I’ve got everything I like to have! Typically my backpack for an international flight ends up containing:

               iPad with earbuds
               portable battery and cord to charge phone and iPad
               my wallet (with chapstick, money/membership cards/etc., passport and phone)
               filled water bottle
               a few snacks
               compression socks/knee compression sleeve
               neck pillow/eye mask
               noise-cancelling headphones
               sweatshirt/jacket
               Bluetooth headphones
               glasses
               toiletries I’ll use on the plane before I go to sleep (with my water bottle):
                          toothbrush/floss/toothpaste/mouthwash
                              my night guard
                              extra contacts for when we land
                              facewash
                              face lotion
                              cleansing wipes and deodorant

I’m probably forgetting something. But that doesn’t matter so much!!! Haha.

Nutrition

Everyone wants there to be a magic formula to good nutrition. There are really basic rules, sure…best practices. But everyone is different, everyone likes different things, and each athlete’s body has different needs.

During the 2010 season (arguably my best to date, although I could make arguments for 2015 and 2018), I weighed about 182-185 pounds. I was right around there in college (Except for in 2009, when Russ lived at Purdue and I ate everything in sight out of happiness. But I think that was more a body composition thing than a weight thing, and I PRed that year so whatever.). When I graduated from high school, I weighed about 160. In 2011, it was suggested to me that I should get leaner, so I did that for the 2011 and 2012 seasons, and was around 175 for most of those years, when I didn’t throw well and ultimately tore my ACL. More on that in an upcoming body image blog! Following my catastrophic knee injury, I’ve eaten for performance rather than vanity. And 2018 and 2019 so far feel like my most successful years with that attitude. I am currently 198-200 pounds, the heaviest I’ve ever been. But in this weird late season (and in all my seasons), heaviness is normal as I approach my competitions. I want to tell you how I think about nutrition.

The end of row one and beginning of row two below are from 2009, my year of eating. These are all chronological!

For even more background, my Mom did a fabulous job of feeding her family well-rounded, nutritious meals growing up. I knew no different than home cooking with balanced nutrients in each family dinner we had together. I’m so lucky to have had that! She told me once that an alternate career for her would have been dietician. Then, I went and got a Bachelor of Science in Nutrition, Fitness and Health from Purdue’s world-class nutrition department.

Here are my main points:

Eat when you’re hungry.

               And not when you’re not hungry! Listen to your body. You get bonus points if you have balanced nutrition, but really listening to your body is the biggest point. Get in tune with it. That takes time. Just stop and think, every time you eat. It’ll get easier with practice to know what you need vs. what you want.

Eat breakfast and eat after practice.

               You don’t have to eat a ton if you’re not a breakfast person. Just have some berries or a bite or two of banana or a bar that’s easy on your stomach or one piece of sausage or an egg. But putting some fuel in your body is an important start to the day as an athlete. In the same way, you have a short window (about 30 minutes) of opportunity to aid in your recovery from training, right after training. Eat something. Preferably a mix of carbohydrates and proteins.

Hydrate.

               Drink water on the regular! I think water is boring so I try to spice it up (LaCroix, SpinDrift, Emergen-C up to once per day, Propel, etc.). Hydration is huge! It moves stuff around your body and flushes out inflammation. Related to this is monitoring caffeine and alcohol intake. I drink about two cups of drip coffee in the morning and might have a dirty chai in the afternoon on my way home from training, but that happens maybe twice per month if I remember to bring my to-go mug. I do enjoy a glass of wine or a margarita with dinner sometimes, but only a few times per week and only if I’ve been good about staying hydrated. I quite enjoy decaffeinated hot tea at night before bed!

Here are some extra points:

1.       Plan ahead.

Stock your fridge. There is basically nothing worse than arriving home and realizing you have no good food. If I’m home without Russ (he mostly cooks for me when he is home, and I love him even more for it), I try to have two or three dinner options in mind for the things in my fridge, and always have breakfast foods. My lunches usually consist of sandwiches or dinner leftovers, so I don’t worry too much about them, but I like to have options. I am not a fan of meal planning, but having ingredients available that meet a few different sets of cravings is important to me, and to me eating healthily instead of hitting up Noodles & Company or ordering Papa John’s.

Another way to plan ahead is to have healthy going-out options. I absolutely love Pho, and I have no problem at all eating at my favorite restaurant by myself. So if I’m on my way home from an afternoon practice and am totally exhausted, I turn my car toward Lemongrass and feel no guilt about it. I used to lunch often at McAllister’s deli and quite enjoyed a giant salad while I journaled and reviewed film. Paying more than I would to cook at home is okay with me if I know the food is also fueling my recovery and performance. But I don’t like to pay for junk.

2.       Have snacks.

There are SO many snack options in the world! Figure out what your favorite healthy bar is. I like Rx bars. Have some of those on hand. My favorite snack that I’ve discovered in the last few years is cottage cheese, pistachios, apples, and cinnamon in a bowl. Delicious! If you mix equal parts plain Greek yogurt and peanut butter (or some real fancy almond or other-nut butter like I do), it makes the yummiest fruit dip, and you’re getting protein in. Do some Googling and figure out what you love in a healthy snack, then have those things on hand for when hunger strikes and you still want to make gains.

3.       Timing is important.

I said I avoid Noodles & Company, but if I really really want it and my time is short or I’m totally worn out, I’m going there. I’ll get protein, fats and carbs in my regular-size Wisconsin Mac n’ Cheese, and then when I get home I can shower, cuddle Madeline and go straight to bed. I have a friend who shall remain unnamed who does this with Chick-fil-A. Sometimes getting whatever nutrients are available in within a half hour of a training session is more important than worrying about what that food is. But not every day.

Having the right foods on hand (points one and two) will allow you to eat better stuff within those critical windows after training, so you don’t have to resort to fast food. But sometimes is okay. I have really long ball days sometimes (a 3-hour training session perhaps), so I started taking a protein-rich yogurt to practice with me to eat halfway through. My body does fine with dairy, and I felt a lot better after getting that nice cold snack. The second half of my workouts flourished!

4.       If you must, track your intake.

There are a lot of nutrition apps you can download to help you learn what is actually in the things you’re eating and how those numbers relate to what other people do, or how you could do better. If you’re just learning about nutrition, I’d encourage you to download one to get familiar with what food means in terms of macronutrients and Calories.

You also don’t have to lean on technology. If you want, you can just write down what you eat for a few days or a week, just to see. Take notice of what you’re eating rather than just putting stuff in your mouth. Be intentional about it.

5.       Change things at the appropriate times.

During a season is not the time to completely revamp your diet! Wait until the off-season to make big changes if you’re going to, and talk to someone about them (your coach, your Mom, a health teacher perhaps). Changing little things in the midst of the season is fine! But mostly that’s quantities rather than the entire makeup of your meals. As you move into the competitive season, you’re doing less work overall, so your intake naturally goes down if you’re listening to your body.

What I do:

I grew up eating well, thanks to Mom, as I mentioned, and then college happened. I didn’t learn to cook really before I went there, and having all that freedom to eat what I wanted meant I ate what I wanted. Eventually I figured out balance, my cooking skills improved, and my classes meant I understood a little more than maybe other people might about eating for performance. That has morphed, over time, into even more understanding of my personal energy needs throughout a day.

Now, I eat primarily proteins and fats in the morning (eggs, sausage or bacon, coffee with a little milk and water at breakfast). Like I mentioned, I’ll eat a yogurt in the middle of morning practice if it’s a long one. Lunch is recovery and a mix of proteins and carbs, with veggies: Leftover dinner meats in a quesadilla with avocado perhaps, and carrots and hummus on the side. A sandwich with veggies piled on, an apple and peanut butter. Chili with Ritz crackers. If I get hungry in the afternoon I’ll have cheese and crackers or more veggies and hummus, or maybe a smoothie with a little bit of everything from my fridge. My snack (if I have one) usually happens before Maddie’s and my afternoon activity (a walk or the dog park). Then dinner is mostly proteins, fats and veggies, and I like to eat pretty early in the evening so that I have lots of time to lay around and get to bed early. Tea happens after dinner!

I really like my new system of eats, with carbohydrates concentrated in the middle of the day. I’m consuming my fast-burning food at a time when my body will burn it fast, and getting lots more protein proportionally than I used to, as I’m not full of carbs I’m trying to fit into the same meal.

I used to train twice per day, and now I only have one session, six days per week. It’s a lot of work still, but more focused work. So I can consume nutrients in a more focused way and feel like that coincides! And when you’re talking about overall energy expenditure, it’s less than it used to be when I did multiple sessions per day for years and years. So I eat less overall as well. I just try to get my timing down for recovery purposes.

 Food experiences!

People get overwhelmed by nutrition and like to jump on trends, but food is a tool that you just need to figure out how to make work for you specifically. Experiment with your diet and notice how you feel when you have time and opportunity to do so. Shop the perimeter of the grocery store so that you’re eating real food. Google any dish you can think of and the word “easy” and you’ll be able to recreate it and then build on it in your own kitchen. Above all (and again), listen to your body. I love good food, but mostly I love good food experiences: Give me a seafood restaurant with great conversation with interesting friends in a fantastic location (Mitch’s, perhaps), and I’m incredibly happy. And I’ve learned over time that my clam chowder is just as amazing if it’s in a cup rather than a bowl. And I can take half my poké home instead of shoving it all down to keep the night a lovely memory rather than a painful over-eating, tired and grumpy one. Let food enhance your life rather than running it.