Silken Laumann: A golden bronze
Silken Laumann won three Olympic medals during her rowing career:
one silver and two bronze. She was a world champion and was widely
considered the best single rower of her time, but bad luck prevented
her from parlaying that into an Olympic gold.
And yet, it's one of her bronze medals that stands up as one of
the great moments in Canadian Olympic lore. It more than met the
gold standard of courage and determination in the face of adversity.
Laumann may have been built for rowing and competed as a rower
in four Olympics and eight world championships, but Laumann's first
love was track. As a high school track star, Laumann was tall with
a ropey body. Then her body started changing.
"I started turning into a woman," Laumann told CBC. "I
started to fight just getting bigger and stronger and it wasn't
a good combination for being a runner."
In just a few short years Laumann went from being just a little
taller than most girls, to being bigger than almost everybody. The
strain on her body lead to nagging leg and back injuries.
"I didn't pick rowing. I think in some ways rowing picked
me. My sister Danielle was a competitive rower. She'd already reached
a fairly high level and she was always trying to get me to row,
saying this is a sport you could do really well in," explained
Laumann.
Team Laumann
Laumann was hooked as soon as she got in a rowing shell, and "Team
Laumann" was born. But it wasn't always smooth sailing for
the sisters. According to Laumann's father, Hans, the two sisters
were like "cats and dogs."
"Danielle had already developed a style, and Silken had lots
of determination, but when it came to technique she was quite rusty,
so Danielle got cheesed off many times," he told CBC.
Silken and Danielle got in synch with each other in time for the
1984 Los Angeles Olympics, where they won a bronze medal. Following
that success, though, Danielle quit rowing to become a lawyer. By
the 1988 Seoul Olympics Silken had a new partner, Kaye Worthington.
Worthington was also an accomplished single rower. As good as they
were individually, Laumann and Worthington had trouble meshing.
"We just weren't able to combine our techniques, to combine
our psychologies, and spent the season sort of fighting each other
rather than working together," said Laumann.
As a result, they failed to even reach the finals in Seoul. That
may have been a huge setback for Laumann, but during the Seoul Games
Laumann grew close to John Wallace, a rower with the men's men's
eight crew, which also had a disappointing Olympics.
"The men's eight that I was in was the only team on the Olympic
team to make the final and we came in 6th, dead last on the final
and that was the best result," Wallace told CBC. "So it
was a collective feeling of sadness and really under-performing
at the Olympics. So I think a lot of us were commiserating afterwards."
"We were both in a kind of emotional state in our lives and
really bonded over that weak period," said Laumann.
Laumann and Wallace married shortly after. Their marriage turned
out to be good for Laumann's rowing career, too.
"It was like having a partner in the boat, but he wasn't in
the boat. I think that was a huge benefit."
Getting married and becoming a single
In 1990, Mike Spracklen was coaching the Canadian men's team in
Victoria, B.C. Laumann, who was now the top female single rower
in the country, was looking for a new coach. She approached Spracklen,
considered one of the world's best coaches.
"What I told her was that my role was to coach the men's team.
If you as an individual, are prepared to play second fiddle to that
system, then I would help you as much as I can. I will give you
all the help you need, but there will be times when I have to give
my first attention to the men at your expense," recalled Spracklen.
Laumann agreed to Spracklen's terms, and under his tutelage, she
seemed to turn the corner. She won the world championship the following
year, and looked like the favourite at the 1992 Barcelona Olympics.
But 10 weeks before the Games, the Canadian rowing team was in
Germany for a qualifying regatta. While training out on the lake,
Laumann's boat was struck full force by a men's pair boat.
"The bang, which sounded very much like two cars crashing,
was my boat splintering. I didn't really feel anything, and then
I looked down at my leg and it was just a mess. The injury looked
so bad I actually wondered whether I was going to lose my leg, because
I could see the bone," said Laumann.
It was a devastating injury, but it could have been worse. Since
it was her lower leg that was broken, the bigger muscles around
the hip and thigh were not badly damaged.
Laumann spent a week in a German hospital before flying back to
Victoria with the wound still open and immediately starting a rehab
program on specially adapted equipment.
"I was going hard every single day, but at that time. I was
still pretty far away from the ability to go and race at an international
level. Three weeks before the Olympics I was almost 30 seconds slower
in my boat than I needed to be to compete at the Olympic games."
Laumann did make up the necessary ground and competed in Barcelona
sporting a heavily bandaged leg.
"I competed just as if nothing had happened. And really, I
can honestly say that for the first half of the (final) race I felt
totally normal," said Laumann. "But then I guess at the
halfway point, I really started to feel my lack of fitness, and
I actually thought, I'm not going to make it."
A golden bronze
Laumann had fallen to fourth spot in the final behind the American,
Belgian and Romanian boats.
"I just went crazy. I just kind of put my oars in the water
and gave it everything I could for the last 20, 30 strokes of the
race," explaind Laumann.
Laumann finished third and instantly became a Canadian sporting
legend, her name and toothy grin synonymous with resilience.
"I think that bronze medal has become something very special
in my life," beams Laumann. "It's like a touchstone almost,
if you will, for something that represents the ability to overcome
the unexpected."
Three years later, Laumann helped the women's fours to a gold medal
at the Pan Am Games in Argentina, but the euphoria of victory would
be short-lived. Laumann failed a drug test and she and her teammates
were stripped of their gold medals. It was a jarring turn of events
for someone with such a wholesome, plucky image.
Before the Pan-Am Games, Laumann had taken Benadryl, an over-the-counter
cold remedy that contained a banned stimulant. At an emotional press
conference the rower explained that there are two types of Benadryl,
one that could be used by athletes, and one that couldn't. Unfortunately,
Laumann had inadvertently selected the latter.
While the 1992 accident left Laumann physically scarred, suspicions
that she cheated left her emotionally scarred.
"It was a very negative experience. Ultimately, I felt it
was a very innocent mistake, and it was treated like a crime at
first," says Laumann.
Laumann overcame the medicine mix-up and the terrible season that
followed to win a silver medal at the world championships at the
end of the year. It was an important finish because it set the stage
for the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta.
"I think I trusted my own instincts more in 1996. So I really
matured as an athlete. I feel I realized my potential, all the lessons
I learned in rowing came together," recalls Laumann.
Laumann was back in the single sculls boat at the 1996 Atlanta
Games, this time winning a silver medal. She could not think of
a better time to end her competitive rowing career.
Today, Laumann does work for the advocacy group, Right To Play,
and speaks to corporate audiences and schools, passing on the lessons
she learned on the water.
"(Rowing) taught me how to take risks, it's taught me that
usually a risk feels scary, but you've got to push yourself to do
it. When you do, there's a tremendous feeling of satisfaction that
most things in life have a risk element to it. But that's kind of
exciting and fun, and it's okay to feel afraid."
reprinted with permission
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