A thing that is always terribly annoying to a writer is when I feel like I don't have a way to adequately translate my swirls of emotions and thoughts into any kind of coherent blog post.
Olympic Trials were an unreal experience. I saw historic performances on the track, I sat in rooms with more Olympians than I could keep track of, I flirted with my fair share of cute boys (did you read my last post? I have to BE MYSELF after all), I stayed up half the night checking the internet in hopes that my house didn't burn down, I got to hang out with two lovely friends who came to visit, I worked with people I both admire and respect and that's all the way from getting to spend some significant time with Jackie Joyner-Kersee to just falling further into professional love with the two women from the USOC I brought to help me.
I am still trying to figure out exactly why 2012 has decided to be such a dramatic year but one thing I'm really trying to do is stay anchored in my faith. I got a nice blessing before I left for Oregon that confirmed to my little heart that I have done the work and the preparation and things are all going to be OK.
I am pretty excited to go to the Olympics. I'm excited to have a cool job that makes people in the airport want to ask me a million questions. But after the emotional intensity of the last few weeks, I am way more grateful that I have a home that is still standing, that I had an overwhelming outpouring of people from all over the country checking in on me last week when our fire was front and center on the news, that I have a family that dropped everything to support my father when he needed us, that I have made some choices recently that were hard but were right. The Games will be a good memory and an awesome experience but I'm so, so thankful that my life and my identity goes way deeper than a neat title and a trip to London.