While I could say that winning the gold in the lightweight eight at the 2000 World Championships in Zagreb was my finest moment, it was during the days shortly after my return to the US that I discovered another reason why I am training for the Olympics.

Following our win in Croatia, I returned to Princeton and prepared to make my end of the summer trip back home to the hills of Vermont. However, before I could pack my car, I received a call from Bryan Volpenhein, one of the best rowers in the country and a soon-to-be member of the Olympic team, instructing me to show up at the boathouse the following morning, ready to race.

My mind started to go through the possible reasons why Bryan had called me and all I could think of was that Mike Teti, the US National Team coach, had seen that I had done so well at the World Championships that now he needed my skills for the Olympic games. The selection process for the US Olympic eight was still underway and I thought I was getting my chance. I could hardly sleep that night as I dreamt of getting switched into the boat, racing against some of the best rowers in the world.

I woke up the next morning at 4:00 a.m. still riding the exuberant wave of seeing the US flag raised in my honor and because my body was still accustomed to the European time zones. I ate a hearty breakfast and prepped myself for some racing thinking that this could be a shot at the Olympics.

When I arrived at the boathouse and Mike told me to get into two seat and to not mess anything up, I knew quickly that I was merely filling a space in the boat as the real selection took place. However, I was elated by the fact that I was doing what any aspiring rower would kill to do. “This is the fastest boat in the world,” I thought and I focused on every precise movement making sure not to mess it up.

The two boats on the water completed three 1500 meter pieces, a distance slightly shorter than the full 2000 meter standard race, at a flat-out, full throttle thirty-eight strokes per minute pace, with each piece helping to determine the 2000 Olympic roster. Pacing oneself was not acceptable. Each time down the course, the coxswains wailed out their encouragements and the rowers poured every ounce of strength into each stroke. The boats were never more than half a second, only a couple of inches, apart. And after each piece, Mike quietly scribbled the results into his notebook.

The next three days held the same routine: three 1500 meter pieces, all-out, to determine who would go to the Olympics. As I sat in two seat, I made certain not to ruin someone’s dream of the last four years and concentrated on not taking a single bad stroke. By the end of this week of racing, when the final boat line-up had to be determined, I could hardly walk. I knew I was not going to be on this list but I had lived the ultimate rowing dream and raced with the best and rowed with the highest level of athletes in the sport. I witnessed first hand the making of history and how deep the commitment to making the Olympic team needs to be. This may have been the end of most athletes’ journey to the Olympics. For me, it was the perfect beginning.