NOT an Excuse.

At some point during my early teenage years, my parents arrived home with a new Ford Explorer. I loved that car the very instant I saw it in the driveway. Maybe because it was green, I don't know. All I know is, I thought it was perfect. I am sure I had seen one before, but I simply had no opinion on the car, whatsoever. But now? Now it was my favorite! The very next day, I rode in it with my mother to run errands. At our first stop, what did we park aside? Another Ford Explorer. I couldn't believe my eyes. What were the odds!? Slowly, as we drove around that day, I started to see them everywhere. They were literally EVERYWHERE. This almost disappointed me, here I was, thinking we had something, new and special and amazing, but, really, it was everywhere. I just hadn't noticed it. In one instant. One experience. One moment. I had sensationalized the most insignificant, common vehicle to every grace our roads (at that time), all because my parents simply brought it home to our driveway.


This. This is what the media is doing every single day. They are choosing to draw our attention to certain things, phrase them in certain ways, all to sensationalize something that is likely extremely trivial and mundane. Because, who wants to see and hear about the boring, everyday Explorer?


I am marginally disappointed with the Olympics media coverage, but gargantuanly disappointed with the "lay persons" response to it.  Most of these announcers and reporters are tried and true. They are good people, with good hearts. I challenge any one of us to get on air and speak constantly and interestingly while remaining 100% PC. It's not possible. You will slip. You will phrase something incorrectly. You WILL offend someone. We can all find slip ups, things to be offended about, Explorer's...if that's where we've turned our attention. I absolutely don't want to downplay real issues that exist in our society, but I also find it extremely exhausting that we are trying to find Rosa Parks at every single bus stop. The way history tells it, she actively pursued civil rights. This was her passion. She chose to be involved in multiple organizations and movements. She searched for the right moment and seized the opportunity to change a societal norm, in a fantastic and necessary way.  These are athletes. And sports announcers. Not societal revolutionaries.


As you may (or may not) have noticed, it is actually less frequent than you'd expect for the team captain of each sport to be the most decorated athlete. It is hard to concentrate, train day in and day out, be guided by your passion and drive in a sport, while also being a motivational speaker and exemplary human. As an elite athlete myself, I remember constantly being reminded by our coaches not to wear our warm ups or any team apparel when going out to the bars (which was also adamantly discouraged from doing, and that any belligerent behavior, no matter our apparel is not condoned nor tolerated in any capacity.) We were reminded regularly that, though we may not want the attention, we will get it. That it's our responsibility to represent the most upstanding and morally correct human behavior at all times. My high school coach held me back from Senior Nationals one Summer, because, though I did not have one single sip of alcohol, I was guilty by association. I followed my friends, I didn't speak up, I did not behave at the level appropriate for an "athlete of my caliber" as they say. I'm not sure I have ever been so heart broken, one of the toughest lessons I have ever learned, and I'm not sure I ever completely agreed with the severity of that punishment. But I had to suck it up and learn that, as Uncle Ben so famously taught us, "with great power comes great responsibility". And, just as Peter Parker made a few mistakes before he knew what to do with himself. And, at moments, was angry with the "gift" he'd been given and the responsibility that landed on his shoulders. He too, had to learn to deal with his mistakes. Wouldn't you rather do this privately, and not under the scrutiny of all the world?

Ryan Lochte, being a 12-time Olympic medalist, SHOULD be more responsible, and make better choices, and be aware of what he is saying on National television. We ALL know that, I know that he has been taught this, time and again. He's not a child, he SHOULD have known better. But, as many people do, he made a mistake. There are so many comments out there with disgruntled people, about how Lochte's behavior overshadowed* other Olympic gold medalists time to shine. This didn't need to happen. We all could have let the Rio law enforcement and the Olympic committee handle it. We could have just let Gabby Douglas choose to salute the flag however she wished. We could have enjoyed amazing athletes, men, women, black, white, brown and watched them perform feats never to be seen again without suddenly turning our focus to sexist and racist comments. Somehow. Social media made one of my favorite things in the world to experience and watch, into a torturous, "he said, she said" gossip, speculation fest. I simply want to enjoy what's left of the Olympics. I would love to recount the amazing moments, and try to quit rehashing the questionable ones. I would love to identify the great things that people said and did, not the slip ups. The poor choices. The regrettable moments of a bunch of superstars who know they are in the lime-light (didn't ask for it) but still struggle to stay on that rigid moral path, that apparently ALL the rest of America has no problem following.



(OK, maybe sometimes we like a little bit of the lime-light: I was the IU record-holder of most NCAA All-American Honors at one point (with 13). Record hold in the 100 fly briefly, as well. Ahh. The good ol' days.)

By the way, if you ask the athletes, there is no such thing media "overshadowing". With a few exceptions, these people are simply trying to be the best within themselves. The Olympic dream is not to be on TV, but to be THE BEST at something. Competitors of this caliber are not proving things to you, they are proving things to themselves. They are reaping the rewards of decades of self-control as well as intensely hard focus and training.  As the first American female to win gold in wrestling, Helen Maroulis, says: “I didn’t come here to win a gold medal for the media attention, I didn’t come here to win a gold medal in order to find something within myself or some peace within myself. I found that self-worth before I stepped on the mat. I think that’s why I won the gold medal."

So please. For just one moment forget you had ever been presented with that Explorer. Relax. Marvel. Enjoy watching the phenomenal capabilities of the human body, and try to let the less than perfect moments that exist in all of nature take a back seat.

IU Girls Gone Wild: Destin.

The longest amount of time I spent, side by side, with any of these girls, is 3 years {because I was a freshman, and they are all older}. Three measly years. Three out of the four years of the most intense physical, emotional and mental training of our lives. We were swimmers at a Division 1, top 10 NCAA program. Unique to swimming, specifically women's swimming, are the sheer number of hours spent training. We swam in the morning for 2 hours - or, if you were sprint group, played "follow the leader" skipping around the pool deck. We ate. Went to school {napped}. Came back for more training, consisting of running, dry land, weights, jump rope, or other such plyometrics. Then 2-3 hours in the pool. Again. Then, Training Tables at the Stadium for dinner, with all the football players, basketball players and other athletes, probably consuming no less than 2,500 calories in one buffet meal, per night. Wednesdays we slept "in". Sundays we got "off". We got a week or two off of training in the Spring, and again in the late Summer. I would still run a bit, because after a month long taper, and a few days out of the pool, I would begin to get "out of shape". Ha!!!!!! I thought I was getting 'out of shape' after a few days of less than 6 hours of working out! For 12 years of my life, I didn't go more than 10 days without swimming. Ever. Now, after years of medical training, I am flabbergasted than none of us were hospitalized with Rhabdomyolysis. And, I'm not sure that I didn't have a mild case after an hour of box jumps, then a night of dancing to 17th Floor. I literally could not use my calf muscles to walk, let alone push off the wall for flip turns. These ladies went through the same; were the same.

We spent endless hours at the pool together, in the weight room, in the locker room, on buses, a private jet even, the dinner table, the Village Deli, Bloomington Bagel, Nick's, Kilroy's, running through campus in our swim suits. Gross. We didn't even think it was weird. We knew what items each person kept in their locker, how long they had been there. We knew each others favorite foods, TV shows, music, clothes. We weathered more break ups, scandals, love, hate, joy, fear, desire, disappointment, success, and exhaustion in those 3 {4} years, then most people will in a lifetime. Despite a 10 year time lapse since we last spent every waking, and sleeping hour together, we reverted to our 21 year-old selves. Only with a midnight-ish curfew.

Anne and I quickly settled into our comedy routine, where we make things funny by simply repeating them 60-75 times in a slightly different manner each time. Though, Susan makes it pretty easy to laugh, when she excuses herself from our romp in the ocean to "go jump off the sand dune." Anne wades over to me and says, "Ummm, Smitty? Do you see any sand dunes from which you might be able to jump into the ocean?" I scan the area, "no". Anne replies, "Oh. Ok. Because Susan has just informed me that she is going to go jump off the sand dune." I look again, "Nope, unless she means..." I am about to finish my sentence with "...the slight ledge of sand that is the bank, and has more sand below it" but I couldn't, because I see Susan backing up to, indeed, jump off the embankment. Anne and I watched silently as she runs, then jumps with the biggest of smiles, lands, and disappears {aka, falls}. I am still coughing due to the salt water I aspirated from laughing so, so, so incredibly hard. Anne and I cannot even speak for minutes, as we watch the other girls jump to their feet. I can only imagine the view from the lounge chairs, Susan must have seemingly disappeared off a ledge to them! Not to mention that she still swam out to meet Anne and I in the ocean, actively bleeding from her sand burn abrasion...sharks can smell that stuff!  We are all lucky to have survived. Anne and I will laugh about this, regularly, and every time we see Susan, for the rest of our lives. We just will.

Though we immediately reverted back to our college days, and we all seemingly have maintained the same personalities, outlook, demeanor, our lives have changed drastically. The seven of us have experienced so many things in the past 10 years. There are 2 doctors, a PhD, 2 coaches, a big name in USA Swimming, 9 boys - 6 & under, one on the way. Marriages, surgeries, babies, losses, moves, break ups. Truly, as we all sat and talked of where we had landed, we remarked how the saying "if we all threw our problems in a pile and saw everyone else's, we'd grab ours right back" remains true. We have only kept in touch via infrequent email, text, social media and even rarer, actual phone call. We reunite about once a year, nearly every year, with a couple years missed in between. So hearing about our lives, in person, was refreshing, eye-opening, and shocking, even, at times.

There is such a large part of me that only these girls understand. Often, and especially now, during my search for a job, I think to myself, you have no idea what kind of person with which you are speaking. You will never find a more committed, devoted, hard-working, loyal, persistent, driven, or happy human, mom, employee, friend, wife, sister, daughter, co-worker. But the IU ladies? They know. We all know. No matter what life hands any one of us, where it takes us, what we may look like to the outside world, in our hearts, we know that not only every single one of us is AMAZING, but that someone else knows it too. And that, feels wonderful.

The Olympic Trials

One day, I will go to the Olympics. I will. No, I am not deliusional, I don't mean as a competitor. Though, I can't say that dream of mine has completely fizzled. Every so often, I think about how much I have learned, how much wiser I have become, how much I now know that eating right and sleeping right makes a huge difference on how your brain and body performs. I think back to high school and college, and how I often got only 4 hours of sleep. Then, I would swim for a couple hours, then go to school, then swim. How did I expect to perform at my peak on that amount of sleep? And sometimes I would eat a whole row of oreos for a snack, or half a bag of Twizzlers. I would bring 5lbs of sour candy to swim meets and eat only that and a few bites of lettuce the whole weekend because the nerves destroyed my appetite. A common theme to my swimming career was "inconsistency". Now, I think I could buckle down for a few years. Quit staying up late, eat right. I could do all the things necessary to perform at my full potential. Now, does that mean I could be or could have been an Olympian? Probably not. But maybe. But seriously, I will attend the games as an excited, nervous, sympathetic spectator.

Recently, I drove to Omaha for the night to watch finals of the 2012 Swimming Olympic trials. I went partly because a couple of my college teammates were there, but mostly because I love feeling part of my sport again. I miss it. I feel at home near the pool, surrounded by beautifully sculpted, half-naked bodies built for performance. I watch those kids parade out for finals, and I remember that moment. I remember trying to stay loose, shaking my arms and legs, jumping, doing "Nordics" behind the blocks as were customary for a Blazer kid. Wondering if I had warmed up properly. Trying to remain confident, focused, excited. For me, there was a perfect balance of adrenaline and composure that I could rarely find, but when I did, the race was over before it started. I could feel it as soon as I stood behind my block. I was going to win. Coaches even told me they could see it. They knew when I was "in the zone". Watching trials, I could see those swimmers "in the zone". Witnessing 8 people swim for 2 spots to compete in the greatest meet in existence is exhilarating and nostalgic. When they step up on that block, I know exactly how they are feeling. I remember the desire to win, deep in the pit of your stomach sensation to the point of making you feel sick. Every event. To represent their country by doing what they love and doing it the best. I love being the best. I like to think, at this moment, I am the best and greatest person that ever existed. But alas, I am not. I am a spectator. And always will be. I can say I tried.

I did compete in the Olympic trials. I remember it as one of the most exhilarating, exciting events in my life. I felt like the best. At least, I was walking around the deck and sharing a pool with all the best swimmers in the world (as USA dominates the sport.) I remember being told by my coach not to get DFL (dead fucking last, as we would say). I was swimming the 200 butterfly. My best, and probably most inconsistent event at that time. And it was a long course (50 meter) pool, I was more of a short course (25 yards) girl. I liked my turns. I was known for my underwater swimming. Fairly certin, if there was a 50 meter, underwater with fins Olympic event, then I would have been there. Just saying. I ended up getting a best time by almost 3 seconds. I didn't get even close to semi-finals. I didn't care. I was starting my Senior year in high school. I had all the time in the world to improve. How was that 12 years ago? Michael Phelps was a 15 year old baby, shocking the world with his 200 fly. Now, he's the veteran swimmer. Back then, I couldn't imagine my swimming days ever coming to an end. Ever. Inconceivable.

I am happy where I am in life. I had a great time, reminiscing with Susan Woessner and Megan Ryther, Seniors when I was a Freshman at IU. We stayed up late, we drank, we talked, we acted as though no time had passed. And despite being out of the sport for 7 years now, I still ran into people I knew left and right. It still felt comfortable to be in that arena. I got to talk to Dorsey, my IU coach for an hour. I got to brag about my children, and my career. I have succeeded. And I have won. In so, so many ways. I look forward to continuing my journey. But, I love catching a little whiff of my past, and feeling part of that world again. For a brief, wonderful moment, I imagine being the best, being an Olympian. And it is awesome.

Now, I mostly start imagining my sons competing, in some way, in some sport. It almost brought tears to my eyes seeing the mothers of new Olympians sitting by me in the stands. I sympathize with both sides, the competitor and the spectator. How amazing to know you created and raised an Olympian. So many emotions in one little 24 hour trip (literally, I left the house at 3:32 on Saturday and pulled in the driveway at 3:32 on Sunday - weird!) So much fun. And THAT is why, one day, I will go to the Olympics.

Going to Miami...

My Danish swimming friend, Tina, from college scheduled a trip to the states for July. I think she may have been kind of joking when she sent me an email saying I should try to come down to Miami and join her and Maggie, another Hoosier swimmer, but I took it seriously and bought my flight immediately. We then found out that Colleen, a 3rd swimmer, was visiting this weekend as well, because her sister located in Southern Florida just had her 3rd little boy. It snowballed from there, and 6 of us were able to have mini reunion! The MANY absent com padres were definitely missed, but we managed to have fun despite the missing pieces...
Fun in the sun. Nothing beats Florida beaches. The water has always been clear and warm in my experience.
Fun with dining. Nothing beats Florida Grouper! And generally, all the seafood is to die for...it took me many coastal visits to finally realize that I actually enjoy fish. Living in the landlocked Midwest does not provide much opportunity for fresh, wonderful, seafood.
Fun at the outlets malls! Pretty sure Miami/Ft. Lauderdale has the biggest outlet center I have ever experienced. Overwhelming to say the least. This shopping trip did inspire a couple $100+ heel purchases (not by me, your welcome Matt) but did nearly caused me to drop a couple hundo on clothing for the boys as I discovered "Crew Cuts". Apparently, J.Crew has a children's section!? Not sure if this is a good or bad thing for me.

The weekend proved to really be relaxing, enjoyable and full of girl talk. Amazing how 6 people can all go 6 different ways and live in 6 different cities yet fall right into place when together in one house. And a spectacular house it was! Maggie has quite the set up there in sunny Florida.

Can't wait to visit again.

Name Bracket

As women, we get the luxury of choosing between 2 last names upon getting married; either we keep our own, or switch to our spouses. Seeing as I was Smith before, O'Laughlin was an easy choice for me. Not only did it add a bit of uniqueness to my, otherwise, absolutely generic name, but it moved me up the alphabetical name bracket...just 4 letters from the top half! As Susan Woessner and I discussed (both being alphabet backenders as well - which being last, or near last, for everything growing up does NOT suit psychotically competitive people well), we are not sure what the bride was thinking upon agreeing to marry this gentleman last weekend...from Anne Williams, to Anne Wind!? Where does that get you?
But really, the wedding in Troy, Michigan this weekend was one filled with love, admiration, coordination, reuniting, reminiscing, joy and DANCING. Anne, of course, had a slightly choreographed dance for the wedding party's entrance to the reception. And no one was surprised when 'Dirty Pop' turned up on the DJ's playlist. Anne and Mike had been together for over 6 years, so everyone was ready for this event! Nearly the entire graduating class of Indiana '04 were in attendance and quite a few from '03. Jinji and I representing '05 and the lone Susan from '02. The whole weekend could not have gone smoother, and more beautifully, with only one minor glitch...
...Saturday night, around 10:50pm, when I return from the dance floor, I see 2 missed calls from Matt as well as a text that says "Call Me!" Umm, I think we can all imagine how I felt upon seeing that my husband, who RARELY calls while I am out of town, has tried to contact me 3 times in 15 minutes. That reaks 'emergency'. So, I quickly exit the blaring ball room, to find a quiet nook to call and find out whether or not my child is still alive. Matt answers in a calm, normal tone, giving me a glimpse of hope that perhaps he had just had a few too many drinks at his own wedding in KC, and had lost his sense of judgment as to what is considered an important phone call. Then, he non-chalantly says, "So, I was changing Brock's diaper..."

Ok, at this point, I am thinking: please don't tell me you are at the hospital, please.

"...and I noticed a bunch of red spots that could be some kind of bug bite, but I dropped him at my parent's anyway, but now both of his knees are very swollen, he won't walk on them, and he has a slight temperature."

Go to the ER! We have had a very ugly, peculiar looking spider, living in our kitchen windowsill, that continues to evade death, despite our many attempts, and now I am quite sure it's a Brown Recluse, and Brock is filled with toxin, and is going to at least lose both legs, if not die.

"I have called Dr. Water's, and he just thinks it is a reaction to some virus, and to just take Brock into the office tomorrow morning."

Dr. Water's was my family's pediatrician, as well as Matt's growing up, and his wife is my Godmother. So there is probably no one in the world I trust more than a close family-friend pediatrician of 30+ years who helped my mother and mother-in-law raise 9 healthy children, therefore, I yield to this option with one request: Matt must wake up at least one time throughout the night to make sure Brock's temperature has not sky-rocketed. I had Steven's-Johnson's as a viral reaction to Chicken Pox when I was 18ish months, and was hospitalized for quite some time. He agrees, I am somewhat OK with this plan of action and return to the reception.

Upon returning, I explain the situation to a few people, one being a doctor herself (Dermatology resident), and no one seems overly concerned, so whatever. But, upon describing Brock's symptom's, my former roommate, someone with absolutely no medical training: Brooke, asks, was he on penicillin recently? Lightbulb. He was! So I tell her, yes, he finished 6 days of it on Friday. And she excitedly responds, "Oh my gosh, that is exactly what happend to my nephew recently, 24 hours after finishing an 8 days course of penicillin, his knees suddenly swelled up, then he got a rash over his whole body; I guess he is allergic to it." That is it. Brooke solved the mystery. I am nearly 100% relieved, I call Matt back, he does some internet investigation, agrees, continues with our plan of action and takes Brock to the doc on Sunday morning. A reaction to penicillin it is. Turns out, Matt's mother, and my grandmother have this same problem. Simple solution, but still a nightmare of a situation. At least my son is fine, despite some discomfort, and I can officially say that it took 19 months with a child before having a true medical scare. I'd say we are all pretty lucky.

Phew.So, I went on to enjoy the rest of the reception with some Nelly and Lady Gaga. Had farewell coffee and bagels with my long-time Hoosier friends the next morning. Got to join a med school friend, Gretchen, for lunch before flying home (next to an overly-concerned, little, old lady who continuously asked me, "are you OK?") to Kansas City and my boys.

A Danish Wedding

A few photos to suffice for now...

IU Wedding's 2008, # 2!!!

Megan & Patrick Labuhn

July 12th, 2008

The photo above may appear harmless, cute and comepletely normal, but what was happening on the other side of the lense cannot even be described in words that are printable in a public arena. Let me just say, "Sound the Alarm, it's a party" and "Chicki, chicki, chicki, Chickita!"

So, I showed up in Columbus, Ohio on the Thursday before this blessed event, because it was hundreds cheaper than arriving the next day. I did not know I was walking into what would turn out to be one of the strangest evenings, EVER. Megan had a nice little barbeque planned, at her new in-laws (which almost ruined my entire evening because of the major loss Colleen and I suffered to Kristy and Jillian in a very intense cornhole game...but I pulled it together for the rest of the night, though I am still a little bitter, obviously.) We then set out for a kind of pseudo - or maybe full fledged bachelorhette party equipt with bride and bridesmaid tank tops, as well as phallic ring pops and straws, you know, the normal party fair. Everything seemed normal, if not a little dead at the first bar: Frog Lobster Tree Horse Barn something or other (only thing of note; some attractive but boring hockey players). So it was suggested we move on to Scully's for a Ladies 80's Dance party. Apparently, drugs were required for attendance at the bar, ecstacy prefferably, but 'shrooms or acid would probably work fine (I am speculating). Stepping into this bar was like stepping through a porthole to a new dimension, or onto a movie set. Has anyone seen Party Monster? Crazy, loud, trippy 80's/early 90's music...men dancing with men, women dancing with women, fat people in little dresses, little people in fat dresses, mohawks, tattoos, frat boys, chaos to its max. As the evening wore on, I couldn't even tell that I was the ONLY sober person in the entire bar, seeing as the environment was so intoxicating. Finally, after losing 5% of my body weight in sweat, we went out for air and a ride home, which is where the aforementioned picture took place.

Thank goodness, the rest of the weekend proved to be quite a lovely, peaceful, expected wedding event. Phew, Baby O may not have forgiven me if things got any crazier.

Hoosier Wedding!

The wedding season, for me, was officially kicked off last weekend in the hometown of my Alma Mater, Bloomington, Indiana. It was truly a Hoosier wedding, as they are both teammates of mine from swimming for IU. The weather cooperated perfectly, the bride, groom and wedding party were beautiful, all was merry and I had a blast. Though, I must mention, going to weddings and not being able to drink puts a bit of a damper on the dancing. The only way to stand, walk, and dance in heels for 8 hours is to drink them numb, or become inebriated enough to not care about dancing barefoot through sticky, spilled beer and spirits. Lots of joy and crazyness, wish I would have remembered my camera...

Cheers! to Dr. Elizabeth and Mr. Richard Bryant.
May 17th, 2008.