What the world owes

First, huge venting blog coming, if you don't care for it, pass it by.

I've come to learn that a lot of people think the world owes them something. Not the entire world (I bet those people exist too) because that would be too funny. But let's narrow the subject field down, let's say athletes. Athletes use these words like 'deserve' which basically means 'I'm better then my competition so this should be mine.' Which is quite demeaning actually. Let's continue though.

Athletes in the US always gripe about funding problems. Usually an argument comes up with if country (whatever country supports its athletes but is not comparable to the United States) can support its athletes the US should be able to. My biggest argument is go move then. To be honest, the country we live in is pretty great compared to a lot of other countries, even ones that support their athletes so if you want to sacrifice everything you do have in this country for a little support go right ahead, good luck.

Next, hard work goes a long way. Those that complain they NEED funding don't, plain and simple. They want funding but they don't need it. Those that NEED something find other ways to obtain it. Saying I need funding because it might affect my training is obsolete. If you NEED something, like money, you go out and make it plain and simple. Most athletes are the laziest SOB's out there. I don't mind saying it. Just because you work hard at a practice doesn't excuse you from working hard in life. Sport is a choice, regardless of how many people tell you it's their life, it's a choice. At least in this country. Skating is my life, but I support that lifestyle.

Sacrifice. This is a good one, sacrifice to athletes means living away from friends and family, putting off school, working hard at practice, and my favorite training through a injury. Those aren't real sacrifices. Athletes NEED something (like funding) so they don't have to make sacrifices, so they can train and then relax the rest of their days, so they can get 8-10 hours of sleep every night. So they can maintain a lifestyle. 

If you want something in life work for it, you might have to make sacrifices, and you might fall short in the long run. But you will never need to look back, and IF, if you succeed there is no greater satisfaction then being solely responsible for your success.

Where the heart lies

First, there are few times if any, that you experience a certain feeling of excitement. There are very few times that you would rather see someone else succeed then yourself. The first time I was overjoyed and just down right happy about someone's success was a few years ago when my brother won the 200m TT at jr trials. This week I was able to experience that feeling again.

I think proud is a better description. Just a feeling of pride washes over you for someone. Like you are just so proud of someone for what they were able to do. I wish I could feel it more often. Following along while Daniel skated trials gave me that feeling again. To be a first year junior and make the team basically off of just the four distance races is rare feat. Most people that make it right away are overall good skaters, skaters that get some points in all distances but aren't necessarily exceptional at any at that age. That wasn't Daniel. What he lacked in short twitch muscles he more then made up for with endurance and a fearlessness of getting tired.

Once upon a time we considered transferring to junior world class and making the junior world team a 3 part process:

First: you had to get strong enough, fast enough just to keep up.

Second: you had to learn how to race, make your mistakes and learn from them.

Third: Put it all together and see the finished product. 

With the top 8 point format that isn't necessarily the case anymore but it doesn't make it any less impressive. Watching the updates of the do-or-die points race was quite exciting for me. To see someone in any division get points on 18 of the last 19 laps (25 lap race) is incredibly rare. To follow along while he managed to be the only other jr man to win a race besides the incredibly impressive Tanner Worley made me pretty proud. 

I guess having practiced with Daniel since he was just a little kid plays a pretty big part. The other part is just how raw he is. So much still to learn about racing. So much to improve upon technically as a skater and yet it didn't matter. That's impressive to me. Plus he is the complete opposite of me as a skater around that age. I didn't finish a long race until I was 17 I think. Didn't earn a distance medal until 18. I've always had a certain appreciation for distance skaters, so much of each race is about fighting through being tired and willing yourself on, realizing everyone is tired and someone still has to win. For me, around 17 that's when i figured out that at the end of races everyone was tired. Once I realized everyone gets tired I could convince myself that my tired was better then theirs. 

Next I realized over the course of the week that my heart is still and always will be with my wheels. I truly believe I'll be back on my wheels at a trials again, I just can't put a date on it. I love the sport that molded me as a person and created every opportunity I have today. That and I still know I had to leave before I was ready so I still have some unfinished business. 

I was proud of the little ole' rink we skated at in Shillington. With our piss poor concrete floor that no one ever shied away from telling us no one could win practicing on. Everyone shows up and works hard and when you don't, you knew about it without being told. I hated when people would come to practice and not work hard. I always tried to work hard even on my worse days because I never wanted anyone younger or slower then me to think taking a day off was okay. There are always practices where the whole team is generally sluggish. I'm sure every team has them, sometimes it's the weather or the time of day or whatever but they happen. Whenever I felt those days and felt that way myself I would try as hard as possible for two reasons:

1. I didn't want to set a bad example

2. I knew if I blew up trying too hard no one was going to beat me feeling sluggish.

Lastly, I was proud of my coach, Jeff. For everything I guess. I never took for granted how much he sacrificed to work with me day in and day out. To do whatever it took, I always understood how much extra time must have been spent just thinking about all the questions and ideas and comments I always had. The best part is that he always demanded more of me as a person then a skater, and that made me the skater I became. I still remember some days it would just be Jeff, Kevin, and I on a late Wednesday night skating, and skating hard. I always wondered if those were the easy days to coach or the hard ones, just two skaters. 

When I first started skating for Jeff I was 9 and just a little kid. We had a huge team(and then we lost our nice wood floor and our team moved on from the sport for the most part. Ever since our team at our rink has been pretty small, but pretty successful.) and sometimes Jeff would address the team even if it was directed at a few skaters. I remember when I was probably 10 he gave us a speech about working hard. That we got what we put in. That if we gave him everything we had he would make sure we reached our goals. That hit home for me at just ten years old. I thought if I just try really hard Jeff can make me win. And it still works.

Before me there was always success at our club. One of the most iconic inliners, Steve Carter, came before me and he was exactly who i wanted to be. As a kid I was so naive I didn't know where or how people even made a world team. Steve would call and tell Jeff he made it again and Jeff would tell us and I would sit there in awe, "Steve's so good he made a world team."

After Steve I was the next one to make a world team, after me there was Sam and Kim. Then my brother, and now Daniel. Seven straight years of someone from one rink making a world team without it being the same person is no small feat. The only thing we all share is the man coaching us. 

And lastly (really this time) there is Kelly Archie. Our other coach and the only other coach our rink has had since before I was there. You always new how to make everyone work hard when Jeff wasn't there, and how to keep everyone trying when they wanted to quit. You always put the skaters way above your own skating and that's a sacrifice a lot of people can't make. You don't get the limelight or the recognition but your contribution to the success of our teams over the years was always felt. 

One Of A Kind

I am an athlete. Before I am an athlete I am apart of the working class. And before all of that I am a human being. I am an athlete with Olympic aspirations, an Olympic hopeful if you will. In order to be that athlete I put in my 40 hours every week, no not my training schedule, my job as a department manager at Target.

Some days I wonder how I would perform if I had 40 hours for rest, recovery, sleep, nutrition. What would my performance look like then. Would I tire less quickly because of the recovery time? Would it feel easier? Would my technique improve? Would I be calmer? Would I sharpen my skates more often with time? Would I train more? Would I eat better? Sleep more? Wake up easier? 

I will never know any of these answers and thats okay with me. I took a huge challenge to chase a dream. Moving away from home wasn't that hard, living on my own, not that hard. Paying for all of my training and living expenses? Kind of a challenge while balancing a training regimen designed for success, and managing a personal life on top of it all.

I grew up with a blue collar attitude. I work for what I have and what I want. The success is nothing without the journey. The struggles of today make tomorrow's victories vindicating. I could beg for money and claim how impossible it is to train and work at the same time. But I've always held myself to a higher standard then that. Is it hard? Yes. Impossible? No. 

I have a short temper with myself at practice. I am used to pushing myself. I am used to my best being better then everyone else's. I know every moment is an opportunity to improve, master, and find a new technique. I want constant progression although in reality the idea of one step back to take two forward is more accurate. I hate every moment that I lose feeling, every movement doesn't feel like a progression from the last. I get angry that my body doesn't do what my mind is telling it. And I get mad when my mind shuts down my body. I get frustrated when I make a mistake. I anger every time I can't do something right the first time, let alone the second. There's a certain passion I have for constant progression. In everything I do I want to be better tomorrow then I was today. I don't want to take a step back. 

When I can't keep up for a lap, set, practice, or day I get angry. When I can't run, jump, or lift more I get angry. When I can't stretch further or better I get angry. Angry with myself, that anger drives me to improve. It creates a longing within, a longing to be better, to not lose at anything to anyone. 

Today I will push my body until I can't move tomorrow if its called for, then tomorrow I will get mad at my body for not allowing me to move. Call it what you want. 

I am one of a kind. I don't want fame. I don't want flash, money, or stardom. I just want the satisfaction of making it all on my own. I just want to prove it can be done. So many people have told me the impossibilities of my life. I just need to prove everyone wrong.

All the Many things to be Thankful Of

I guess first off, the thing I am most thankful of is that everyday I wake up. And everyday I wake up I put in the work for everything I have.

I'm thankful for my family, not to be cliche or anything, but they obviously played a big part in molding me into who I am today. Thankful for my dad, who always supported me especially thru skating, I still don't know how we made the numbers work but we did.

Thankful for my brother, who even though it may have never seemed like it you pushed me thru practices I thought I was too tired to go on, because I'd never let you beat me.

Thankful for my coaches, especially Jeff, who has played the biggest role in the opportunities that are presented to me today. Without his guidance and coaching I probably would have left skating all together many years ago. More then that Jeff always coached me as a person instead of an athlete. He always made sure I knew that at the end of the day, skating is just skating: it doesn't change the person I am win or lose. I still and always will remember the first and only time I ever quit in a race. It was at a small race in Ohio, I was a Freshman but I was skating back-to-back Sophomore then Freshman. In the Sophomore race I put half a lap on the field and then fell twice on the last lap. For the freshman race I thought I could take it easy and rest for the next Sophomore race, I wasn't prepared and someone beat me and I quit with half a lap to go. Jeff told me if I ever did it again I could find a new team to skate for because if I was going to win like a champion then I was going to lose like one too.

I am thankful that for the work ethic that so many helped instill in my over the years. Coaches: all of them. Teachers, family, movies whatever it was I'm glad it happened. I don't have nearly enough talent to even attempt to rely on it.

I'm thankful that I fell in love with a sport that gave me more then I could ever give it. Yes, I am talking about my inlines. I met thousands of people, traveled to so many places, learned so many things, and most of all it never asked for anything in return. Some of my favorite moments were on the road practicing alone, just the soft vibration of the pavement beneath my feet. Whenever I needed it to be there it always was, the road never told me no, never told me I wasn't good enough or my technique was bad. Whenever I laced up my skates, left then right, the road was ready for me.

I am of course, thankful for the opportunity I was given to be apart of the WHiP program and allow me to test myself on the ice. Obviously things have turned out well for me and who knows what the future holds.

I am thankful for my coach this season, Jae Su Chun, who was able to see something in me that I couldn't see myself. Was able to take me from an inliner with blades instead of wheels and turn me into an ice skater that benefits from an inline background. He took a chance picking me for the NRP program this year without knowing anything about me and in a few months managed to put me in contention.

Lastly, I am also thankful for food and Duck Dynasty. Food because I am a fat kid at heart, and Duck Dynasty because it is the greatest show to ever surface.

I hope everyone takes care and remembers we are nothing without the people that got us here.

Dear Kevin

The destination, no matter what it is, is nothing without the journey. We've had one heck of a journey. But, as always this is something we always expected, it just took longer then expected. The true destination you'll have to figure out yourself. It might lie somewhere in Italy or it might lie somewhere else entirely but that is something you'll have to figure out on your own. I appreciate you thanking everyone including myself that helped you get where you are today, as I truly believe you are nothing without those surrounding you. At the end of the day if you are completely satisfied with what you've done then okay, maybe the journey ends here. Deep down I hope there is a sense of urgency, something that still hasn't been fulfilled. Something that still leaves you unsatisfied.

The best thing I can tell you over the next few weeks is not to take advantage of it at all. To train and skate like it is your last chance. To always leave yourself wanting more.

Now, first off Kevin, you'll always be my little brother, and for that I'll never give up on you. Secondly, anyone who has spent time with us as athletes can see you are twice the athlete I'll ever be. My range of athleticism ends at skating, that's what I can do. I'm average at best at everything else. You're bigger, stronger, and possess more raw power then I do, you just don't know how to use most of it.

Next, when you look back on things there is a lot you are forgetting or failing to remember. You remember my successes but not my failures. Maybe it's because by the time you really started to care about skating I started to win. Maybe you don't remember the three year stretch I never won as much as a league meet. Maybe you can't remember how hard I always was on myself every time I lost. Maybe you don't remember 05 when I sat and cried because I didn't qualify for a final I thought I should have won. Or 06 when I came so close but failed to make that team. Or 07 when I didn't medal in the 300 how pissed off I was, how I thought my championship was over before it even started. Or indoor that same year, 2007, when I lost for the first time all year at nationals in the first final. Remember all those years I skated Trexlertown and got whooped? I would finish two or three laps behind the winners every time. Surely you can remember the many times I threw my helmet, what you might not know is it was never because I was mad at the person that beat me or anyone else but myself. I hated myself for losing. Losing never mattered to me until I won, then I couldn't stand losing. I would let a single loss, even from a league meet. Eat me up, I would remember it at every practice. I would use it to make me keep going. I would tell myself I would lose again if I didn't keep going, or I had to train harder then everyone else in order to be better then them.

If you haven't learned it by now we are not the same. My drive has always come from my hatred for failing. My confidence has always come from my strength in training. A lot of my successes have been because I couldn't face myself if I lost or if I failed. Remember in 2007 when I qualified for that first jr world team? I was like the last one to make it and I skated 3 sometimes 4 or 5 times a day doing intervals and sprints all day long. Remember how the only thing that kept me going day after day was the thought of everyone being better then me? That year at trials I got 5th or 6th in the 300 but somehow at residency and worlds I was able to run as fast or faster then everyone else.

I just deleted a few paragraphs because I thought it was getting to far away from the topic. Basically Kevin, I want you to know you have a lot to still be accomplished. There's no doubt in my mind you have the physical tools to be a better skater then I could ever become. My greatest strength has always been between my ears. And once you figure that part out you'll start to see it. Just remember this isn't the end of the road, so although it's nice to thank everyone there are still tasks at hand.. even right now in the next few weeks. Remember over the next few weeks you need to train your mind as much as your body, get the necessary amount of rest and eat well. And of course, remain confident in yourself at all times..even in moments of doubt and train hard. And whatever you do, don't lose your passport.

Sincerely your brother in life and wheels,
Keith

2008 Season

2008 I can sum up into one post for both indoor and outdoor. Indoor I skated pro all year getting some experience racing with those guys what I still have NSC to thank, but wish I would have just done so much sooner was believe what I could do. I always new I was fast enough to race anyone, and sometimes it was there but until I started NSC if Will or Steve were in front of me I simply didn't think to pass them because they were suppose to win, if I finished behind them it was still news.

Indoors we had  a lot of wheel issues at nationals for what would end up as my last year with MPC. I was 100% dedicated and loyal through everything. Even when the wheel didn't perform like we expected it to I never switched wheels until they gave me a set of competitor wheels and told me to put them on. When I put on other wheels, I made sure to salvage the championships. Skating poorly due to equipment in the 1000m and 500m I switched in the 2000m and broke a 10yr record by eight seconds. I remember my last 5 of my 20 were all under 8.5 and I managed to get third overall, an accomplishment in itself. 

Outdoor I viewed trials as a formality. I wanted to prove I would be going to worlds the top junior sprinter and I let the chip on my shoulder be known. I broke two records that year at trials. Won both TT and got ready for worlds. I practiced my sprint a lot leading into residency in worlds that year. I had just moved that year which forced me to drive much further to practices and instead of being able to skate to a practice location I was stuck searching for somewhere new to train alone. 

When I got to worlds I couldn't figure the track out to save my life I felt like. I kept thinking I had it down and next thing I knew I was barking or slipping again because my line was poor. I think I proved it in the 300m. I qualified 8th overall for the 300m, and got 5th in the 300m final but I left a lot to be desired after barking in turns two and three. Fifth place was cool but still left me unsatisfied. The next day I didn't get to skate what I thought could have been my best race, the 1000m. The coach told me he didn't even consider me for the race because it's not a sprinters race. Which pissed me off a lot at the time, and maybe still does a little. 7 out of 8 finalist for the 1000m that year were in the top 12 for the 300m and through all of our training I never finished worse than 2nd for the 1000m all at fast speeds.

I remember I called Jeff on skype of course, and told him what happened. I remember he asked if I would be in the 500m the day after and I told him I should be and he said simply, show them what you can do.

The day of the 500m I was still bitter or angry. And at that stage I was still an ipod-on-in-the-zone-kind-of-guy. I remember the heat I came out at 100% and 50m into the race I already had 15m to spare on the field. Safe cruising from there. Fast-forward through the quarter(i won) to the semi. I had 4th overall in the 300m in my semi and one of the best jr sprinters from Australia in it. I came from behind in the semi and won that too. Afterward I realized my semi and quarter were the fastest two jr 500's thus far. In the final I knew a medal was within reach. I had beaten one of the skaters in the final in my quarter and semi but I was skating so well that day I wanted gold. I remember off the line I was in fourth where I wanted to be basically because the favorite was in front of me. Then I remember one skater tripping and out of reaction I grabbed his hips to hold him up then on his next cross his left foot came through and took my skates right out from under me.. My medal dreams were dashed. I remember getting up and wanting to get off the track, not finish, wanting to go hide out and shed a tear or two for myself. 

But I had a relay final to skate, if the 500 did anything for me it was make me hungrier for the relay gold. I had a goal to get an individual medal but I could still win a relay medal along the way. I was in a pissed off and disappointed zone before the relay. I made the decision to push the pace in the relay before we ever warmed up. I wanted to be in the front and if we were going to lose it was going to be because someone was better then us. After my first time out we led every exchange until four laps to go. I was coming out for my exchange at which point I decided to go full 100% and see if I could open the race up a bit but before I ever got going a competitor cut into our relay line knocking me down, this video doesn't show much of the contact but you can tell someone falls.. that's me. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SqeRkXUDFLc 
I felt back after that, mostly because I think we had a very good chance at winning that relay, the few times anyone passed us we moved right back up to the front. Although I couldn't really control it I still feel like there's a medal Jake, Jonathan, and I left in Spain.

Falling twice in a span of an hour on your knee, shin, leg does quite the damage. That night I couldn't put weight on it. The next day for road practice I didn't skate. I remember telling Jeff I wasn't sure if I would be able to skate the 200m and he asked me if I was healthy would I be the best bet to skate it and I said yeah, so he told me to skate it so I did. I couldn't feel my left foot and I didn't make the 200m final, I got 13th with my leg still swollen there wasn't much I could do. I salvaged what I could out of the rest of worlds that year but the falls on the track didn't leave me in a good spot for road.

Someone came up to me after track at worlds and told me if anyone deserved to win a gold medal it was me, that it was tough to watch my fall in the 500m and then again to see it all happen just an hour later in the relay. I had never spoken to this person before, nor had I ever met them. It didn't help me really, but it still felt good for someone to recognize me even without any accomplishment.

2007 Outdoor

There's so much to write about my outdoor season in 2007. But first, in 2007 ODN was still in late may or early June that time frame. Well in the fall/winter of 2006-2007 I started skating a little bit of short track speed skating. Maybe three times a month I would practice for an hour on the ice. Well, on my birthday, April 16th 2007, we were skating really slow and the season was over (for ice) and like most clubs we didn't have pads around the entire track just on the turns to the blue line. We were doing a circle tech drill and I slipped and fell down going back first into the boards. I tried to shake it off but right away I knew something wasn't wrong, I had a stinger go straight down my left leg.

Two weeks later I still wasn't practicing but had already paid for a flight to the national team clinic, so I went and did what I could, which was much of nothing but luckily I still went because the the training room had me hooked up to stem and a few other things everyday which ended up helping me out alot. After the national team clinic I still couldn't skate much outdoor Straight away pushes were painful for me so I prepared for trials with little outdoor training in the last month and a half. I don't remember when the pain went away but I know I was fine at trials.

In the first race I had the mindset that I could win, the 300m TT I don't remember what happened but I ended up fourth I think.. the top five were all within .2 of a second. I was pretty disappointed with my 300m but I cam back pretty strong in the 1000m and ended up third. The points race was bad for me that year, and the elim was barely any better, I manged 7th or 8th in the elim which gave me some points but not much. The 500 was always a tough race and I remember coming out of the final turn I came underneath Colin Thomas and won out the hawk at the line for third place. In the 200m I ended up in 3rd, didn't do much of anything in either long race on road and then it was the 500m. I didn't mention it to anyone at the time but running through my head was flashbacks of 2006. In the final race I had not yet secured a spot on the world team, but I was still in the hunt for the last spot. Jeff had to leave ODN early that year for work, I remember calling him before the 500m I explained the points to him and I remember telling him, Jeff if I win I'm in.

I remembered him telling me in 2006 win and you're in. Those words stuck with me and I thought it was a fitting time to repeat it back to him.

My semi was very interesting, it was myself, Colin Thomas, Moe Hall, Greg Gorman. The thing was that Colin was already on the team, Moe, Greg, and I were all fighting to be the second sprinter on the team. The course had a slight down hill and a slight up hill. I remember Moe won the start and then Colin then me. Colin went to the front and I remember going inside of Moe in the turn after the downhill. The uphill straight I went by Colin and sprinted to the line. I won the semi and Colin made it behind me. We watched the other semi skate and once Chad Horne and Kimani Griffin advanced to the final I took a pause and then realized I just made the world team. Whether I won or lost the A final as long as I skated and finished I made the team. I remember shortly after that being called to the officials tent and I was super nervous, I didn't understand I skated a clean race and nothing was questionable I couldn't be disqualified. When I got the tent the announcer was announcing my name, apparently I had just broken the 500m road record for Jr. Men. I was pretty stoked. I remember calling Jeff and telling him the news I felt terrific, in the final I remember coming off the line pretty easy because I didn't want to risk anything and end up with a DQ.. I took 4th in the final and officially made the world team.

After I got back from trials I remember Jeff sat me down and told me it was time to take it to the next level. He told me we had trained hard the past two years to get to this point but if I was going to skate at the World Championships we would need to take it up a lot higher then we already were. I remember he told me I would have to do a lot of it on my own because he still would have to work so everyday I would have to skate without him there to coach me in the mornings but at night we always had a 1-2 more practices that he would be there for. I remember in the mornings a lot of times it would be me and the watch. Intervals, sprints, intervals, sprints I think that's all I did day after day, morning after morning. Then I would gear up and do whatever Jeff thought up for the evening practices. The training paid off, I won indoor nationals which was in my previous blog.

When I got to residency I didn't know how good or bad I would be. I remember everyone expected me to be purely sprints but after a few days they realized I could do the distance drills, too. I ended up splitting my time between sprints and distance. Every 300m we did Chad, Kevin Quandt, and I were all basically within a couple of tenths.. every single time. Residency could basically be a wash between most of us, we were all strong that year.

Worlds was different.. as soon as we got to Cali I peaked or something.. Everything started to fall in place. On the second night a bunch of sprinters were at the track to work on opening 100's.. I remember I ran my first full 100 and everyone told me how good it was and they told me it was 9.6 and I said what does that mean, Joey was the only one that beat me that night for an opener.

I remember being so nervous the day of the 300m.. the first race at worlds and my first worlds. I didn't really know what to expect. I remember qualifying for the final which was cool and then I got 8th which I was proud of I guess. In the 1000m semi at worlds we thought it would be fast from the gun and it wasn't we crawled the first lap so knowing it went by time except the winner and that we had the 300m champion in our semi I took off with 4 to go. Coming out of the last turn Colin passed me and then him, me, and the 300m champion hawked at the line. Colin made the 1000m final.. he was the only one in our semi to make it.

The relay on track is probably the most interesting part. We made it out of the heat easily. In the final we had decided to make our tags low so we had inside position heading into the turn. To that point I had never ran that hard in my life, the track was huge and parabolic so sprinting through the turn was an option. We led from the gun every exchange the whole time. On the last cycle I remember Italy coming along side of us before the tag then we had a poor exchange that left me twisted down the straightaway but I/we recovered and maintained position finishing with second place and a medal at my first world championships.

Funny story, after my 300m heat a US parent/coach came up to me and told me I never belonged on that world team. I was offended, I still think I might be. I didn't really understand, I went to trials and beat out everyone else and earned my spot fair and square, and I had an injury going into trials but I didn't use it as an excuse. Needless to say, they stood in front of me and said I didn't believe you deserved a spot on this team. I thought you were the 6th and final person and that you wouldn't be on the same level anyway. They paused and then continued to say that I 'proved them wrong' and they weren't sure how I did it but I was very good here at the world championships. I didn't know how to respond and I if it happened today I still don't know what I would say.

If the 2007 World Championships did anything for me it showed me how close I was and it made me want it more than ever.