I was at the Utah Olympic Oval. An almost second home where I trained almost every day. One hour away from race warmup. I walked to the edge of the track beginning my race routine while taking a deep breath, it was as if I was taking in all the experiences of the previous athletes that were here every day committing themselves to something bigger. I remembered the track runners that I would pass by every morning warming up for practice. The coach yelling “Go” to the hockey player deflecting the pucks that were shot at him. The “boom” sound of the weights hitting the ground when someone was lifting, or even the hook marks that the figure skaters left on the ice that we speed skaters despised so much. It was a place of work. A place of
