An Olympic Dream

These have been an amazing past two weeks.  I feel honoured to have been apart of the Olympics in such a unique way, and to have been able to spread the Olympic spirit to others.

Almost a year ago, I entered my name into a contest sponsored by Coca-Cola to join the Olympic Torch Relay.  Never in my wildest dreams did I think that I would be receiving the following email: it said that I was going to be an Olympic Torchbearer.  What sealed the deal, in my opinion, was the essay I sent to them.  I decided to write about how growing up in Lions Bay has influenced me to become conscious of the natural world I am lucky to live within, and how working with the Rockridge School Environment club has helped me to further pursue this passion.  I also wrote about my experiences participating in a course sponsored by the BC Wildlife Federation, where we went out into the forest near Horseshoe Bay and learned how to survey wetlands.  This experience really opened my eyes and reminded me of the sheer brilliance of where we live.  It feels amazing to know that I was chosen to be a torchbearer by caring for the natural world. 

In Lillooet, BC, where I was chosen to run, was a very different environment.  The ocean and towering firs were replaced by rugged valleys and glistening lakes.  I was filled with a nervous energy as I anticipated my day to come.  As I donned my uniform and arrived at the meeting place (which just so happened to be the produce section of the local grocery store), I began to feel overwhelmingly tense.  What if I tripped?  What if I lit myself on fire?  But as our group leader explained the process, I felt more and more at ease by the second.  After settling in on the bus and meeting the other torchbearers, my tension had been replaced by sheer anticipation.  My favourite part of the whole run was just sharing the stories of how we’d gotten there.  Every person in that bus was kind-hearted, welcoming, and incredible.  It amazed me that we were all just regular, every-day Canadians.  When it was my turn to step out of the bus, the seats roared with encouraging applause.  I thanked my group leader and stepped out onto the street, feeling charged and ready to go.  It was touching to see such admiration in the faces of the crowd as I posed to take pictures with them.  Although the “brief wait” turned out to be an unsettling twenty minutes, soon enough I saw the Olympic flame heading towards me.  I reached up and joined torches with a new friend, then set off in pursuit of an Olympic dream.  At that moment in time, I was the only person in the world holding the flame in my hands.  But it all went by so fast.  The feeling I remember most clearly was how sore my arm was from carrying the torch so high (it’s heavier than you think!).  But it was a sweet kind of sore.  Soon it was all over, and I was back on the bus, a giddy happiness flowing through me as I chattered with my fellow torchbearers.  Though I had only met these people about an hour ago, the connection I shared with them was indescribable.

Less than a week after my torch run, I found myself on the road again, this time back in the Lower Mainland.  I was heading to Renfrew Elementary School on the East Side of Vancouver, excited and nervous to speak to the kids about my experiences as a torchbearer.  Upon stepping in the door, I could already feel the excitement in the hallways.  They had just watched the torch run through Vancouver, and getting to meet a real torchbearer and learn how the whole thing worked would just heighten their Olympic fever.  But I was still surprised by the avalanche of cheering as I entered the gym for the assembly.  I regaled the tale of my run, and answered countless questions from students and teachers alike.  Soon, it was time for me to depart, and I left the gym in much the same way as I had entered.  Before leaving, I stopped in on all of the classes to say hi and to let the kids see the torch close up.  I loved going through the school and seeing the students’ eyes brighten upon seeing my torch. 

As I was driving home that day to watch the opening ceremonies, the thought most prominent in my mind was that I was proud to be Canadian.

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