Yvonne Visser's Travel Diary
January 3, 2006
Canadian athletes build character in Latvia
Character is what these skeleton athletes will need, as they make their way
down one of the world's most difficult tracks here in Sigulda, Latvia, just
off the Baltic Sea. The start house of this bobsleigh track sits 100 feet
in the air, looking like a water slide coming out of the top, lit up like
a long snake as it winds its way to the bottom.
Many of the sliders are happy to get to the bottom unscathed as they learn
the small nuances of each corner and straightaway -- meaning no concussions,
stitches, bumps or bruises. As the most of the Canadian athletes have been
here for three years in a row, the injuries are fewer, or less severe, than
most of the other teams.
Today is race day, which means pulling out all the stops, taking the protective
gear off and going full speed on the start. And this scares some, especially
the new athletes, who will race it for the first time, experiencing the G-forces
at full throttle, the worst being in curve 16, which throws your head down
to the ice, scraping the helmet on the ice.
The pressure of competition keeps some of the athletes awake at night, some
excited, and some with trepidation. The emotions, concentration and concern
are all raw, and the team is tired. We have the feeling of going home after
this long stretch on the road, for some this is distracting, and all they
can think about. It has been a long six weeks away from home and family, and
the thoughts of hugs and home cooked meals circulate through your brain often.
You know that you must concentrate a little longer and hold down the urge
to relax until we are over this track.
Each nation is in the midst of selections for their Olympic Team, and there
are athletes here at this race who will not be on the circuit next week. Sliders
in this sport are few and they support each other like one big family, yet
know they are competitors. You can feel the tension rebounding from the walls.
This becomes the 'do it or go home' time and the teams won't be the same
12 hours from now. Some are team players and we will miss their laughter,
some have already shut down, as their season has been poor in results and
they know that they now have no chance at the Olympics, their dreams floating
away steadily week after week.
Handling success is one thing, but handling failure is another and that'
where tue character is apparent, and displayed for all to see.
As I walk to the skeleton/bobsleigh track, I am astounded at the bleak and
grey landscape around me here in Sigulda, Latvia. The buildings seem to be
dirty, rundown, or left to rot, and as a stark contrast, main street is bustling
with ladies in babushka's shopping.
The climate is harsh, and takes it toll on the structures. There are bent-over
old women wearing bright safety vests sweeping the street with willow brooms
-- small branches looped together with twine.
As I sit in the lobby of the hotel at 7 a.m., one woman is shoveling away
in the pitch black, dispersing snow from a gigantic pile in the courtyard
to melt. Yet there are fancy cars parked outside the houses, a shiny and severe
contrast to the house. The buildings will last for centuries, as a walk along
the riverbank yesterday confirmed. As I came upon an old castle ruin, a small
plaque attached to the gate explaining its history. Gothic window arches in
this old cathedral hung in the air 40 feet high, made of huge boulders dragged
from the river. The walls of stone were six feet thick, but looked elegant.
The six foot high indented Red Cross outside the doors gave a haunting feeling
of history. I read the placard. It was built in 1207 and destroyed in 1887.
Its bowels standing for 600 years in the elements.
The people are tired looking and have, mostly, no sense of humor. We try
to get a smile as we say hello walking down the street, but the looks that
we receive.
Inside the local shops, the food is plentiful and tastes great.
The bakery is across the parking lot, and I am having to avoid it.
The sense of style within the stores and hotel is creative and fresh with
the women dressing fashionably, the men dressed in all dark colors. We all
ask the question: Was life better before or after the break of Russia?
Last minute changes have a new meaning when the coach's Blackberry tells
her our planned trip to more training in Turin is now no longer, and we make
a team decision in the boarding lounge in Frankfurt to go home instead of
wait in Italy for these four days. The luggage is taken off the plane, and
as we learn later, is sent back to Italy the next morning, and three days
later still did not arrive. Now 10 athletes wait for a flight out of Germany
on Lufthansa, and are told that there is no availability for four days. They'll
have to wait in the hotel, wait for the lost luggage and wait for a family
reunion.
The team manager searches for hours frantically, as the athletes get restless.
Frankfurt airport is like a beehive, except all the bees are angry, tired
and short tempered. Long line ups with weather delays and Christmas travel
means many passengers are unhappy.
I'm on a flight, now currently over the big blue sea, heading home for and
the memories of the last seven weeks come alive. I am left with a very real
sense that time is of essence, with 50 some days until the Olympic Games.
I know that our skeleton athletes are well on their way to furbishing their
toolboxes with experiences, ready to put in their best performance at the
Games. If that performance is anything like the last seven weeks, we are looking
at a number of medals.
Yvonne Visser is a Nanaimo massage therapist and former Olympian who
is part of the health care team with the Canadian Olympic Committee tending
to athletes in Alpine, snowboarding, skeleton, bobsleigh, and luge at the
2006 Winter Olympics in Turin, Italy. She is currently on tour with the Canadian
skeleton Team in Latvia. Her column will appear every week in the month of
January.
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