The Olympic Trials have long come and gone; the Olympic Games are here, with the Opening Ceremonies kicking off Saturday night. Team USA walked through the stadium in their Ralph Lauren suits and berets. I was not a part of it. I lived vicariously through my friends and fellow athletes through Twitter, Facebook posts, Instagram images. It was cool to see how close we, as an audience, could get to the action and it was simultaneously painful to watch. I am so happy for the men and women representing our country, but I’m also, of course, heartbroken to be home.

Now, a month after my Olympic Trials experience, I feel very disconnected from the running world. I wanted to make the team, but walking out onto the track at Hayward Field for the final, I felt heavy in my heart. Something felt off; the fire wasn’t there. It was a long year, one where I took a lot of risks – I moved from Charlottesville to Tennessee to train; I took a risk by staying with my college coach instead of finding a group or a coach that had time for me (rather than coaching a college team and trying to coach a few professionals); I gave up the extracurricular projects and jobs that I had previously used to fill my time to just run – and that hurt me. I need those outside projects and people to make me happy and help me feel fulfilled; running alone does not do that. I was very unhappy this past year.

Looking back I feel like so many decisions I made were mistakes. But I took a risk, threw myself into training full-force, got injured, kept going, and ended up on the start line at the Olympic Trials full of doubt, tired, unhappy, without the fearless confidence I had in the years past. I ran a smart race – I was right where I needed to be going into the last lap. But there, I faded. I hit a wall and couldn’t climb over it. I finished 9th – a far, far cry from where I expected to finish. I fell short of my potential and that is a harsh understatement.

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