Ive been struggling for some time now on how to update this blog, at a loss for what to write. I finally found the words as I traveled back from interbike this week, and as it turns out I had a lot of words. Its nearly a mini novel, so i’ll put the important stuff here at the top and if you want to read my story of London its below.

First off, im alive! And lucky to be at that. My injuries were pretty serious. I crushed and lacerated 54% of my liver and put a hole in my right lung. It took three operations and nearly two weeks in the hospital to get straight. The recovery has been long but im getting there and expected to make a full recovery. I have one more surgery next month to remove the stint in my liver then I should be free sailing from there.

I am starting to be active again, and yes… back on the bike! Just cruising around for now, I have to stay clear of any impact for a few more months, but plan to get back out on the USABMX race circuit in January and already setting goals for Worlds in New Zealand.

I have been overwhelmed with all the flowers, cards, messages, and prayers for my recovery. Thank you so much, I read them all and each has been a drop in the bucket to getting me back on my feet. Ive had an amazing team of family and friends helping me through this and I couldn’t have done it without them. Huge thanks to my sponsors Intense, THE, SINZ, Nike, Oakley, FLY who have supported me through a difficult year and are continuing to support me. Solid people behind me. Thanks also for the messages and condolences sent regarding the death of my brother-in-law last week. As I mention below, his passing has really put everything in perspective for me.

Because I didnt post them before, for more scoop you can listen to my podcast with BMXNEWS and/or read this article from the DESERET NEWS Ive also finished up my USOC Qualified series on youtube, last three episodes discussing London and my plans moving forward

Crash and Recovery

The Next Steps and the Future

Love From Friends and Family

 

With that, here’s my story…

Dear London,

It’s been seven weeks since my crash and I still have a hard time comprehending that it ever happened. I’ve thought about you and that day a lot over the last seven weeks. Waking up the morning of Jul 30th, my 27th birthday, thinking it was going to be the greatest birthday ever because I was an Olympian living my Olympic dream and less than 48hrs away from departure to the games. As put on my Olympic uniform to practice in for the first time, I felt so empowered, so excited for my last real training session.

While I was out on the track warming up I remember thinking how GOOD I felt on the bike, for the first time all year I was healthy and my skills felt better than ever. I was peaking. I popped out a few gates then spoke with my coach James about the days structure. “3 half laps” he said “that’s all” to be honest I wanted to argue. Only 3? I felt good enough to spend a few hours out there but he was boss so I bit my tongue and loaded in the gate. It slammed down, first straight was good, perfect backside first jump, second jump, a few fast cranks then I pulled and extended hard to jump the entire 42ft triple in the first turn– I had just started jumping it the week before and to me it was the final marker that I was ready for the games. Few girls, if any, would be jumping that triple in London. A big smile swept across my face as I came out of the first turn, I always got the best adrenaline rush booting that jump. More pedals. Spotted my landing on the first jump, another crank, pushed hard through the second jump then looked ahead to the big 30fter into the turn, my halfway point, almost there. 3 more pedals 1, 2, then it happened. My nightmare began.

I heard it and felt it all at once, time slowed to a crawl. There was nothing underneath my legs as they tried to pedal, my wheel locked but my body was still moving forward, hurdling me over the bars as I hit the lip of that third jump. I was high, so high up there, flying like superman horizontal to the ground with my bike somewhere behind me. I was confused. The ground was rushing up at me so fast. What do I do? Don’t stick your arm out, I thought, then I slammed into the ground. I rolled down the landing into the turn before my body finally came to a rest. The impact had knocked the wind out of me and I laid there for what seemed like an eternity fighting to breathe. What was that noise? Then I realized it was me. I was screaming. I tried to get up but could only get part way propped on one elbow. The pain down my right side was searing hot. I ripped my helmet off in an attempt to get more air and saw Quincy, our sports med director, sprinting towards me. Everything gets fuzzy after that. I remember him trying to calm me down. Was I still screaming? “Breathe” he kept saying. Im trying! I made an attempt to stand, but I was dizzy, my vision was blurring and I felt pressure in my ears. He helped me into the golf cart that had appeared from nowhere and I was transported into sports med. My face was wet, I touched it, blood? No, tears. I was crying? I was finally getting some air but it was shallow, the pain in my right side was getting worse. I was carried into sports med and Brett came to look me over. Dear sweet Brett. “Can you knock me out? Please? Stop the pain? It hurts so bad. Make it stop” I begged. His eyes were sad. “I can’t” he said, “I’m so sorry, Im calling this in Arielle, you need to go to the hospital.”

That’s when the fear set in. Not the hospital. No. No. I cant. I am going to London. My bags are already packed. I am going to London… At some point the paramedics arrived, there was a debate about life flight or ambulance. Life flight? Seriously? No that would be too long of a wait they said, “we need to take her now.” They loaded me into the back of the ambulance, Quincy poked his head in and said he’d be following behind then the doors slammed shut and the siren turned on. Some lady was asking me questions, another lady was poking me. “I’m going to London” I kept saying, “I need to go back, I’m going to London.”

We got to the hospital, more people, more questions, more poking. My side felt like it was on fire. Someone had some scissors to cut my uniform off. “No!” I shouted “you can’t cut that, it’s my Olympic uniform, I’m going to London.” Some looks we’re exchanged then they gently helped me remove it. Someone started taking X-rays with a portable unit, someone else was drawing my blood and the room got blurry again. Suddenly I was in a different room, there was a CT scan, the pain was unreal. “please hurry” I remember pleading. Then the doctors were there. Half a dozen white coats surrounding my gurney “Arielle you’ve lacerated and crushed your liver and punctured your lung, your bleeding internally pretty bad, we need to operate immediately ” a woman said. She looks nice I thought, wait… Did she just say operate? I felt narcotics seeping into my veins. Finally some relief from the pain. I closed my eyes.

Something was choking me, something in my throat. I tried to pull it out. My arms were instantly pinned down to my side. Get it out! What is in my throat? I was panicking. I can’t breath! Then darkness again

Someone woke me up. Was it before or after the surgery? I didn’t know. “There are some important men from your church here to give you a blessing, we are going to leave you alone with them for a minute” a white coat said. Two men walked in and for the first time the fear was replaced by a calmness. They were indeed important men, standing before me was the president of the San Diego mission accompanied by a member of the Quorum of the Twelve apostles for the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. Was I dreaming? They laid their hands on my head and a blessing was administered. I don’t remember the blessing itself, just the peace I felt as I drifted back to sleep.

The next faces I saw were my coach James and my sports psych Jason. I asked when I could leave. They looked at each other. A nurse came into the room. “when can I leave?” I asked again. “I have to go to London” she looked at James and Jason then back at me “umm I’ll go talk to the doctors” more blackness. Hey, there’s my friend Rob. Then my husband Mike. When did he get here? James and Jason were gone. The white coats came back. “When can I go to London?” I demanded.

Do you understand London? I fought so hard for you, half dead and hooked to machines but unwilling to give up.

One of them stepped forward and said bluntly “Arielle you are not going to London, your injuries are severe, there is no way you can travel. Your going to be here for awhile.” Everyone stared at me, the silence was heavy. “I need a minute” I choked out. My curtain partitioned room in the ICU emptied out and the sobs came. I don’t know how long I cried. I prayed that it was just a horrible nightmare. When was I going to wake up? This can’t be real. Was I really going to miss the Olympics for a second time? My foggy brain tried to find a solution. Maybe I could talk some sense into the doctors, maybe the nice blond doctor lady would let me fly over if I promised not to race, just stay in the village for a day or two then let Brooke take my place. Maybe USAC would understand. James will have my back, yes James will know what to do. I grabbed my phone and texted him “Please, don’t pull me from the team yet… I still believe I can do this coach, like Keri Strug in ’96. Just give me a few more days please. See if they can push my flight back to Friday” I waited for his response, holding the phone tight hoping until I eventually cried myself back to sleep.

I woke up in another room to an old lady across the curtain yelling that there was a cat rubbing her feet. My parents had arrived, my sister in law. I searched for my phone. Mike had it, “give it to me” I demanded. “No” he responded sternly “not unless you promise not to try booking a ticket to London on it again” What? I was obviously not remembering everything. I promised and he handed it over, I checked the date and time, it was midday Aug 1st. Where did yesterday go? Then it came like a slap in the face, the team had left without me. Someone showed me the official press release from USA Cycling announcing my crash and Brooke as my replacement. I felt crushed as the reality set in. It was really over. “I am no longer an Olympian” I whispered. Mike, my mom, sister, everyone tried to console me. Maybe I could go to closing ceremonies they said, your still an Olympian, they can’t take that away from you, but they didn’t get it. I knew how it worked, once I was replaced my title would be stripped and I wouldn’t be going now, tomorrow, or at closing ceremonies. “I am no longer an Olympian” I said again as bitterness filled my heart. You had given up on me London.

The next few days went by pretty fast. Flowers, cards, and get well messages started pouring in. I set the TV to NBC and drifted in and out of sleep watching the Olympics. “You sure you want to see this?” Mike asked at one point but I felt like I had to watch, had to see it all unfold even if I wasn’t there. I still had friends competing, I still wanted to be a part of it even from my hospital bed.

One morning I woke up to a text message from my good friend Amy Hastings who was at the games competing as a distance track runner. It was a picture of her cleats with a #15 written on them. She said “These are going out there on the track with me tonight. I am so sorry Arielle, but I am so extremely happy you are going to be ok. You will get through this because you are the strongest, toughest, kindest, most bad-ass person I know. Im sending lots of love your way. Get well!” I wept as I read the text. It seemed like I had been crying nonstop since the accident. We were supposed to be there together. That was the plan. What had happened?

Five days in and I wasn’t improving. I felt terrible. “Trauma” the doctors kept telling me, I just had a lot of trauma. I wasn’t able to get out of bed anymore, I felt like I was getting worse. Eventually another CT Scan was ordered. The white coats came back, the blond lady was with them again. She told me I needed another operation immediately because I was still bleeding internally. I didn’t care at that point, they could do whatever they wanted with my broken body. Two liters of blood and bile were removed from my abdomen and a drain was placed coming out of my liver with a bag that had to be emptied every hour. I felt better for a day or two then worse again. A third surgery was ordered to place a stint inside the liver to direct the bile flow. The day after the third surgery I was in excruciating pain, but in the middle and left side of my abdomen this time. More tests were done and it was discovered that I had pancreatitis, an unfortunate complication from the stint being placed. Liver, lung, and now my pancreas was fighting me. I just wanted to get out of that place, out of San Diego, as far away from my nightmare as possible.

I had a constant flow of visitors and my room had been transformed into a botanical garden with all of the flowers that were arriving. My phone, email, fb were blowing up with get well messages–the support was overwhelming. I had my husband and my family constantly by my side despite me being unpleasant and unresponsive. My nurses did their best to cheer me up (even buying and sneaking me special popsicles when I got sick of the generic ones) and Mike would willingly disobey the rules to take me outside on walks. I was so grateful for them all, and especially for those rootbeer popsicles, but nothing could really combat the loss I was feeling.

I hadn’t responded to anyone from the team since they left. We had grown pretty close over the last month as we trained together and prepared to compete on the biggest stage in the world, we were a true team within an individual sport. My crash left me feeling like I had let them down, my coach down, my country down. It was too difficult for me emotionally to interact with any of them, but as the race approached I finally sent them all a message, including Brooke, wishing them the best and letting them know I was pulling hard for them, because I still was. They flooded me back with get well wishes telling me how much they missed me there. It was a small consolation and I felt a sense of pride for them, being the elder of the group to have led them, watched them grow into phenomenal athletes, qualified alongside them.

I watched the race unfold live early in the morning streaming across my phone. I felt very detached. It was surreal to see the thing that I had been training for exclusively for four years happening without me. As the camera panned across the gate for the women’s final to Brooke she stuck out her hand and I saw my initials bright and bold written in silver across her palm. AMV. She was giving me a shout out from thousands of miles away and my heart swelled as the tears came again. She was living her dream as an Olympian but competing in my place, and I knew it had to be tough on her to be thrown in like that, in that way, yet she was honoring me as best she could and it meant the world to me in that moment.

And then it was over. Champions crowned. No medals for the US, and another four years before the opportunity would present itself again. I had been in the hospital for 12 days, had three surgeries, and lost 12lbs. On the 13th day I was finally released, unable to travel home but allowed to go back to my San Diego apartment and rest.

The day after I was released I examined my bike for the first time. My chain had dropped off the rear cog on the inside and jammed my rear wheel. I looked it over with the five other men in the room and we tried to spin theories as to how it happened. We put the chain back on and it was in alignment, not too lose, not too tight. I was hoping for some sort of vindication, an answer, a reason other than my chain just came off but we couldn’t find it. Current theory is that the particular chain I was running was too wide, too stiff, but I’m still not satisfied with that answer. Might as well call it an act of God because I found no solace in seeing the bike.

I said my goodbyes to my friends in San Diego, to the training center, to the life I had known for the last four years. After more scans I was eventually cleared to leave, Mike loaded all my things into the back of our Scion and we made the 1200mile drive home to Washington. Two weeks passed and my body slowly started to heal, but emotionally I had been broken. I was still carrying you with me even after the closing ceremonies were finished and the rest of the world had moved on. I bought a french bulldog puppy, created projects to do around the house to keep me busy, and tried to make plans for next year, but was left with the empty hole in my heart that you had punched.

On Saturday Sept 8th as Mike and I were preparing to take the pup for a walk a phone call came informing us that his oldest brother Rob had been in a cycling accident while competing in LOTOJA and it was quite serious. I was sick, anxious, as we waited for word and when it finally came I only got sicker. Rob was gone. It was shocking, so unexpected. I suddenly felt an overwhelming pain and loss like I had not known, not comparable in the least to my crash or injuries. Rob and his family had become my own. He was a huge supporter of my cycling career, insisted on coming to see you, London, on their last family trip together, just so they could watch me compete. I cannot adequatley describe the amazing man and incredible life he lived, successful at everything he did, the most loving husband to his sweet wife, the best father. The kind of person everyone looks up to and aspires to be.

As we drove through the night across the blackness of Idaho towards Jackson Hole where our family was gathering I had a moment of clarity. A reality check to what is really important in life. It’s quite simply that, the gift of life. Family. It was time for me to let you go. To be grateful for my life that I was blessed to still have, for my family, friends, for the relationships I have had the opportunity to make. To be grateful for BMX, for the places I have gone and experiences I have had. I am so lucky to have traveled the world doing what I love and in that moment as I shared my husbands grief over losing his brother, his hero, I said goodbye to you London. Farewell. You are just another chapter in my story and its time to write the next one.

 

Im still trying to catch up on life after a busy 5 days of travel. As of Monday I am officially on lockdown here in Chula Vista, my eyes tunnel visioned for London, so I took my last opportunity to get away last week and blew it to the max. I had the amazing opportunity to join 12 other Olympians in DC for the PBS Capitol 4th Celebration broadcast. Aside from the 100* heat (completely saturated with humidity) it was an amazing experience. Standing alongside my fellow Olympians, at our nation’s capitol, and in celebration of our independence was both humbling and inspiring. I have always loved American History and I’m so proud to be an American. People in DC are not afraid to show their patriotism either, its awesome!! I have never seen anything like it; flags flying everywhere and being worn on every body part, if you’ve never been for the 4th I highly recommend it.

We were treated with a special tour of the Capitol building prior to the show on the 4th, and I was walking around in constant awe at both the intricate detail and artwork inside of the Capitol as well as our tour guides apparent encyclopedia of information stored in his brain.

Its always fun hanging out with other Olympians, learning about their sports and hearing their stories. Met a few celebrities, shook hands with some Senators, kept my eyes peeled for Michelle and Barack but didn’t get to see them.

Hands down the highlight of the trip was meeting legendary composer John Williams, you’ve heard his work on Star Wars, Harry Potter, Indiana Jones… pretty much every awesome movie has his score behind it, and of course, the Olympics. As they introduced us as Olympians and he led the orchestra in the Olympic Fanfare I had chills running down my spine and goosebumps in the 100* heat. I have a special connection to music, I see periods in my life defined by music. I first heard that theme and dreamed of being an Olympian when I was 10yrs old watching Keri Strug in Atlanta at the 96 Games. This was the first time I heard it standing on stage as an Olympian being orchestrated live by this phenomenal composer and it nearly moved me to tears.

48hrs in DC then off to SLC to visit my hood. Ok… maybe not so much a hood in the suburbs of Alpine, but it was a much needed break at home to breath some smokey mountain air and have one last hurrah with my family and friends before heading over to London. My family worked their tails off to prepare for the massive influx of people who turned up at our BBQ to show their support and congratulate me. I was quite overwhelmed with the response and felt a little stretched thin trying to spend time with everyone but as the sun went down and tables cleaned off I had yet another emotional moment where I realized just how lucky I am to be surrounded by such an amazing support system. Far to many people to name in a single blog, so many who have sacrificed and worked for me, taught me, loved me, laughed and cried with me, picked me up when I was broken and celebrated victories alongside me in this long Olympic journey. A piece of every one of you is coming with me to London and when that gate drops I’m determined to give it all back and make you proud.

On that note.. its time to wrap things up. Ive got 5 vids going on the Qualified Team USA youtube playlist so if you haven’t seen them you can check my links page or click here and have a peek.  Ive got a busy training week ahead of me and looking forward to every minute of it!

Cheers!

 

I love the Olympics, have I mentioned that? I mean not just being an Olympian, but being a fan! Track and field has always been my favorite Olympic event to watch (aside from BMX of course). Michael Johnson and Marion Jones became idols of mine watching the Sydney Olympics in 2000. Their confidence and prowess performing in front of millions inspires me to this day. Ill never forget the feeling I had watching them win their Gold medals and breaking records hoping that one day I could be like them… On a bike… Minus the doping (Marion). Needless to say the last four years training at the OTC in Chula Vista has only deepened my love for the sport as I’ve gotten to know many of those phenomenal track athletes. It’s been an amazing four years working alongside them to achieve the same goal. One journey, one team. That’s truly been my favorite part about this Olympic experience thus far, the incredible people I’ve met and lasting friendships that have spawned out of it.

So yea, I’m pretty into watching T&F meets, especially trials which means ive been glued to the TV the last few days watching my homies compete. So awesome to see Alice Schmidt killing it in the 800, Jess Cosby placing third in the hammer, and I shed tears of joy as I screamed my little buddy Amy Hastings down the home stretch to her epic win in the 10,000m. Side note: If you asked me 5 years ago if I would ever spend 30min watching girls run 26 laps around a track I would have scoffed at the idea, but knowing all that Amy has been through these last few years and how much I love her as a friend you couldn’t make me stop watching. I’ve never seen so much determination and willpower displayed on anyone’s face like I saw on hers down those last 200m.

The TV coverage wasn’t enough for me though, this year it meant something for me to come watch one of the most amazing women I have ever met compete. Melinda Owen is not only a phenomenal vaulter, but one of the strongest women I know (literally and figuratively) she also happens to have a massive heart and spirit. We first met back in ’08, but it’s really been over the last year and a half that we’ve become inseparable buddies. We’ve been through the highs and lows of injury and competition together, often at the same time, and side by side through the strain of days away from the men we love and our homes. She’s kept me sane thought the last year of this Olympic journey and she’s been a big part of me making the team. As her roommate I’ve seen her day in day out work so hard through the pain in her foot, overcoming all odds stacked against her to chase her Olympic dream with a positive attitude. There was no way after going through all that we have over the last year that I was going to miss her vault at trials, so I booked a day trip ticket to Eugene yesterday to experience it live.

How cool to finally be at Hayward Field in person, to feel the electricity and excitement in the atmosphere. The TV cant bring that home. The crowd totally gets into it, they love their track heroes. Nike came through big with VIP tickets for me so I had a front row seat to watch women’s pole vault, men’s long jump, 400m men and women, discus, shot, and the mens 100m. I feel so lucky to have experienced some of the greatest sporting events and athletes in the world, sitting across from Ashton Eaton nonetheless–who just happened to break the World record in the decathlon the day before.

Because of rain the vault prelims got cancelled so they started the field 27 girls deep and set the starting standard high so it didn’t take long to weed out some of the lower echelon. Mel looked good through 4.40, she was charging hard, looked like she was dialing in her form on the pole, I was sure on her third attempt she was over, but right as she planted the pole ripped out of her hands and she landed flat on her back. Such a freak accident, and such a bad time for it to happen. My heart instantly broke for her. I felt that crushing despair that only someone who sees their Olympic dream slip through their fingers could possibly understand. That amount of emotion and loss is unreal, I remember all to well what it was like for me in ’08 and I felt it with her all over again. I have no doubts that she will rise out of this stronger than ever, but such a tough thing to handle. The Olympics wouldn’t be the Olympics if everyone could go, but there’s just some people that are made of the stuff that deserves to be there and she’s one of them.

It was pretty impossible for me to hold my composure after she went out and I struggled to even watch the rest of the competition. That is until I realized that another CVOTC athlete was about to punch her ticket to London. Becky Holliday had the meet of her life, I haven’t gotten to know her as well or seen her vault as much as Mel, but she was consistent over each bar and it was clear that she had found her groove out there. She ended up 2nd to the American record holder Jen Suhr and will be joining her boyfriend Timmy Hornsby a (Chula kayaker who recently qualified) in London. Happy for the little couple, he was sending me some pretty elated texts from his training camp in Canada.

I didn’t personally know any of the throwers competing that day so I kind of checked out on that bit. It seemed all the favorites were going. Long jump was pretty exciting as the last jumper Goodwin, who is still a senior at Texas, stomped the competition and set a lifetime best. My interpretation of the 400 is the biggest burn around the track. An all out sprint for the entire distance of the track to see who dies first towards the finish. We as bmxers race about that same length of time 35-40″ but we sure aren’t pedaling at a full sprint for that amount of time. Favorites Sanya Richards-Ross and La Shawn Merritt took the big wins as expected, and ran faster I think than the fans expected because and the crowd went nuts when world leading times were posted for both.

And then there was the 100meter. Always a favorite of mine, but even more impressive to see how fast those guys go in real time. It must be crazy for those dudes to warm up all day long to race 10 seconds. Twice, 2hrs apart. There was lots of drama being discussed in the tent area about the women’s 100 from the previous day and the dead heat for 3rd place. How is that even possible to have a dead even heat with photo finishes and sensors? It happened though, Latest rumors are they will have a race off or coin toss. I cannot imagine a coin toss deciding if your on the Olympic team or not. Anyway so Gatlin, Gay, and Dix looked good in the semis and were favorites going in. Gatlin ran away with it, literally. 9.80 into a headwind is pretty dec. I heard that he just came off a 4yr ban for saucing, bet USADA checks his pee pee really good tonight. Gay followed by underdog Ryan Baily will join him in London.

An emotional day for sure but an awesome experience. It definitely put things in perspective for me as I watched a small handful of athletes be crowned Olympians while the vast majority left the stadium with their heads down, forced to wait another four years for one more chance. I feel so humbled and lucky to have made the team and Im more determined than ever to represent the red, white, and blue with honor in London.

T&F Olympic Trials