An Olympic Journal

By Philip Dunn,
2000 and 2004 Racewalking Olympian

Philip Dunn is sharing his 2004 Olympic experiences with Walk About in two parts. You can also access his journal on the Internet at www.edunns.net.

Four years ago I walked into Stadium Australia with the U.S. Olympic Team wearing red, white, and blue and waving a small American flag. I was excited but not as overwhelmed with emotion as I had thought I would be. As I entered the stadium with hundreds of other Americans, I looked at the one hundred thousand people in the stands and felt so small and insignificant. I felt out of place. This wasn’t the emotion I had expected. I had thought I would be proud, happy, or joyous and overcome by the realization that I had spent years preparing for this moment. It didn’t happen.

My race, the 50k racewalk, was two weeks later. It was then, as I strode into the stadium on the morning of my race with 55 athletes from all over the world, that I felt joy and pride and tears running down my cheeks. This was the feeling that I had worked so hard to experience. I was on the Olympic stage not only as an American but also as a citizen of the world, one of the best at what I do. It felt awesome.

When I first tried racewalking as a 10-year old, I couldn’t conceive it would take me all over the world as an international competitor and Olympian. My first race was 1,500 meters on a track in Salem, OR and I had no idea what I was doing. My dad showed me the basics with some arm pumping and hip swiveling demonstrations behind the stadium and then I was on my way. The fact that I won the race, beating a bunch of other kids who didn’t have a clue, was perhaps the only thing that kept me in the sport at the beginning. I had found immediate success. I was good at something. What a great feeling for a 10-year old. Every summer growing up I did a few walking races when I wasn’t busy playing soccer, running in local road races, or reading any book I could get my hands on. Even as a young kid, I loved both the physical and mental challenges that racewalking presented. You have to train your body like a marathon runner to endure the grueling distance and pace, but you also have to train your mind to focus on the exacting technique required in competitions. The more you prepare, the further you stretch the boundaries of your own perceived limitations. You get closer to answering the questions, “Are there limits to my ability? How good can I be?” I have also enjoyed the novelty of racewalking. Few of us train seriously for the sport, so we are a close, familial group.

After I graduated from Carleton College in Northfield, MN, where I ran track and cross-country, I began to think seriously about making the Olympic team. It was either that, get a job, or go to graduate school. I resolved to test the waters and spend one year training full-time at the U.S. Olympic Training Center in Lake Placid, NY. Within that first year I went from an unranked walker to a fourth place finisher at the USATF National Championships. Again, I was hooked and have been training full-time ever since.

At this year’s Olympic 50k Racewalk Trials, I knew that I would have to finish among the top three walkers and meet the Olympic “A” time standard of 4:00:00 to make the U.S. Team. On February 15 in Chula Vista, CA, I placed third in 4:10:37. It was so disappointing to miss the time standard, but I knew that I had a couple more chances. I also knew that I would only get fitter as the season progressed.

My next opportunity was the IAAF Grand Prix Challenge event in Tijuana, Mexico where I had raced the previous year. The problem was that the race was only five weeks after the Olympic Trials, not normally enough time to recover from one 50k and attempt another. My coach and I decided that perhaps it would be best if I used it as a hard 35k training session in preparation for the more likely qualifier, the IAAF World Racewalk Cup six weeks later in Germany. So when I arrived in Tijuana two days before the race with a sore throat and nasal congestion, I wasn’t too worried. After all, I was only planning on walking 35k of the 50k as a workout.

On the morning of the race, at 6am, I couldn’t talk because my throat was so sore, but my legs felt okay so I started off with the leaders at a good pace. I was so loose and relaxed at 10k that I remember thinking, “Gosh, I wish I had felt this good last month at the trials. I would have done so much better!” By the time I got to 25k, I was thinking, “That race coming up in Germany is going to be so easy, I feel awesome today.”

When I reached the 30k mark, I realized that I was well under the Olympic ‘‘A’’ standard pace and still feeling strong. I started to think, “Maybe I should keep going and do the entire 50k and get the time I need today.” But when I hit 35k, I started to tire. I began to think about how much further I had to go and remembered that the last 15k is always the hardest. I slowed down and let negative thoughts creep into my head. I started to feel sorry for myself. “My legs are so heavy. My knee is really sore. I’m only going to get slower. I should just stop now.” When I hit the 38k mark, I almost did stop. Then, as if struck by lightning, one single phrase popped into my head: “I choose to go to Athens. Right now, I choose to go to Athens.” Immediately, as though a switch had been thrown new energy coursed through my body, my pace quickened and my mood lightened and the rest of the race was easy. For the last hour of the race, all I told myself was, “I choose to go to Athens.” I crossed the line in 3 hours 59 minutes and 12 seconds and made the Olympic Team.

Now that I am going to Athens, I am in the process of preparing my mind and body for the challenges and adventures that await me. There will be a lot of traveling, a whole lot of training, and a bit of fun mingled in as well. I will take part in pre-Olympic training on the island of Crete with the rest of the U.S. Olympic Track and Field Team. We will spend as many as three weeks in Greece before my competition in order to adapt to the Mediterranean climate and the change in time zones.

When I made the Olympic Team four years ago and traveled to Sydney, Australia, I wanted to share as many of my adventures as I could with family and friends. One of my goals for this Olympics is to share my experiences via a journal on the Internet and with Walk About. I will do everything

I can to promote one of the original Olympic ideals: the Olympics are about coming together as a global community. One of my most cherished memories from Sydney was walking around the Olympic Village where athletes from hundreds of different nations sat down together to eat. We slept in adjoining houses hung with colorful flags from every nation imaginable and we talked to each other and lived with each other like equals. In an ideal world, the Olympic spirit of solidarity shouldn’t last only 16 days. We should try to live every single day with the kind of camaraderie and understanding that I saw in the Olympic Village. I look forward to the Athens Olympics with an open mind and an eager heart.