What the Olympic Year Taught Me

Last summer I won a Bronze medal in Paris in the GB Women’s eight. Racing at the Olympics was a dream come true, and winning a medal? I still don’t have the words to say just how much that meant.

As I’m sure any Olympian might tell you, the path to get to the ultimate sporting stage isn’t linear – and it certainly wasn’t for me. In my pursuit of an Olympic medal I experienced more setbacks than successes, and more doubts than certainties – but this is by no means a sob story. The twelve months in the run up to the Olympics were honestly mental; from dealing with injury, to illness, team dynamics, seat racing, testing, nerves, doubts, being away from home, and ultimately the pressure to perform when it mattered, it’s safe to say I learnt a lot.

So here are my top three lessons.

1) More is More (Recovery) !

This saying is usually applied to training, but what had the biggest impact on me during the Olympic year was applying it to what happened outside the boat. You can do enough training — but you can never do too much when it comes to looking after yourself. Eat more, sleep more, recover more, perform better. Simple.

2) Be extraordinary in how you train, so you can be ordinary on the day.

I’m pretty sure one of the coaches brought this mantra into my life and it couldn’t be more true. After Paris, a lot of people asked whether sitting on the start of our Olympic final was the most scared I’d ever been – don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t exactly relaxed, but we had done everything to the best of our ability at every chance we got, so performing at our best wasn’t unknown territory. I’m not someone who believes that race day will bring some unknown speed that you’ve never found before, so knowing that we had pushed for our 110% on every other day, made me sure that we could give 100% on any day.

3) Get on top of your NTRs

Our head coach, Andrew, loves to talk about NTRs — “No Talent Required.” These are the things you can do to be a better athlete, teammate, or human that don’t require any talent at all. It looks different for everyone: being on time, eating enough, packing your kit the night before, supporting those around you, or communicating well. All of these contribute to success — and not one of them requires talent.

These three points only scratch the surface, but they all boil down to the same principle: control your controllables. Elite sport is a balancing act and there’s a lot you need to get right to perform at your best. It took me a long time to figure out what really works for me, and after winning an Olympic medal, I can honestly say — I’m still learning every day, but hopefully these three points help you on your way.