Olympic Conquest

Part II Lainey - Crazy for You

I'm traveling home to Los Angeles with two gold medals in my carry-on and a man that I love. I'm on a high I hope never ends. But I keep wondering when I'm going to wake up and realize it was all just a dream. I don't know why I can't accept victory without questioning if I truly deserve it. I run my performances through my head. Were they really worthy of gold? Despite being on the best high of my life, it's hard to stop wondering if I'll ever be good enough.

I wasn't naturally athletic or graceful so I had to work harder than everyone else. I wasn't particularly strong or artistic either. I just loved the ice and how powerful it made me feel to learn a new jump or spin. I have always felt the most confident when I'm skating, like I can do anything.

I've spent hours in the gym building my muscles and as many hours in ballet. My choreographer taught me how to have a presence on the ice. I had to be trained to use every part of my body to express myself. I learned the importance of a twist of the hand or a smile and a wink.

Even with all the training, I would have moments of doubt. All it took was a two-foot landing or an off-centered spin to get the negative thoughts swirling in my head. I would skate against the same girls over and over – I knew the crowd's response to their routines by heart. With every roar of the crowd for my competitors, I would feel my confidence shrinking. I tried to drown them out by turning up the music through my headphones. It didn't always work. It's hard to overcome the mental obstacles to a great routine. Physical problems were usually easier to manage.

And then there was Anna Vitali. My arch rival my entire skating career. We knew of each other long before we skated against one another. She was the rising Russian star and I was the American ice princess. We have been fighting each other to be number one for years. She was the World Champion going into this Olympics and the favorite to win. After a challenging year with a worsening hip, I was the underdog with nothing to lose. And somehow I won.

I remember looking down at the gold medal around my neck and not being able to see it through the tears. I caught Anna's look of disappointment - if we weren't rivals, we'd probably be friends and I would feel bad she didn't win gold. But only one of us could get the gold medal and this time it was me. I somehow kept my composure through the American anthem and then stood and held the medal up for everyone to share in its symbol of victory.

And for once in my career, while standing on the Olympic podium, I was able to stop and take a breath. A breath I should have been taking all along. But when you're caught up in the pursuit of gold, it's hard to know how important it is to stop and breathe and enjoy the journey.

The days following my victory went by in a blur. Journalists hounded me day and night, potential sponsors offered me deals, invitations to events and parties came pouring in, and all I could think about was the man who won my heart.

Cory and I couldn't be more different. He's confident and bold where I'm tentative and cautious. He rules his life by emotion. I run from mine. Like his skiing, he lives his life in the fast lane. I take things slow. There must be truth in the saying, opposites attract.

I look at Cory now as we sit and talk at the Atlanta International Airport before our connecting flights take us to our separate homes in LA and Colorado. I feel so connected to him even though I've only known him a short time. I wonder how we'll make things work living so far apart.

"It's nice to have a break from the press. I've never had to deal with so many people wanting a piece of me. How do you handle it?" I ask Cory.

"I don't. I ignore them."

"Really? They're so in your face. I wouldn't know how to ignore them," I say.

"You put your head down and don't talk to them. But I have a rep of being a difficult bad boy that I need to uphold."