Cologne, Germany

For the past month I have been based in West Germany, in a city named Cologne (spelled Koln, by the locals). In all my years of travel, I’ve always said that I wasn’t all that fond of Germany compared with other parts of Europe that I visit frequently. Italy has its amazing food and history, France has beautiful sights and shopping, Switzerland is lovely and picturesque, London has all English-speaking people, Greece has eccentric people and its own fair share of important history, Belgium has waffles and chocolate, and Germany seemed to be able to top none of that. Sure, it has its own share of history…but the part I most readily remember isn’t that favorable and made me look at the country with a bit of a side-eye.

But now that I’ve actually spent a considerable amount of time here, I must admit that I pre-judged the place a little too harshly. I actually really like it here. The food has been amazing with an abundance of cute cafés and restaurants that offer far more than Bratwurst to eat, the part of town I’m staying in sits right on the Rhein river and allows for plenty of picturesque evenings, the people have all been friendly and speak enough English to make communicating extremely easy, and the history…is just that. It’s in the past. In fact, this city is extremely liberal and progressive. So, perhaps I’m admitting a bit of narrow-mindedness here in thinking this country was not a place I’d really enjoy visiting and spending time in, but that’s the beauty of being able to travel as extensively as I do and this time around, actually spend a good amount of time here. I now like Germany. It may not be #1 on my list, but it’s cracked the top 20!

Here are a few pictures from yesterday that I took of the Dom Cathedral that is across the street from our apartment. (The darn bells wake us up every morning!)

I Jump in Sand

I had an absolutely dreadful competition in Stockholm, my last competition before World Championships. I’m not sure how many of you actually follow and keep track of such things, but I figured it was worth mentioning nonetheless. I’ve actually had some people wonder if I even competed as I wasn’t present in the competition that was shown. That actually sounded just fine to me. Yes…that’s it…I wasn’t even there! But unfortunately that isn’t the case. And in case you did see the results… no, I did not jump blindfolded, with ankle weights strapped on, or headfirst into a tornado. I simply had a bad day that consisted of one ridiculous jump, two fouls, and a front row seat to watch the rest of the competition unfold.

But I’m not here to focus on the negative and all the things that I simply can’t change. I don’t all the sudden not know how to jump far. I realize the timing of this snafu is a bit bothersome as it might not be the best way to build confidence heading into the biggest meet of my life. There is no fun to be had in working and not getting paid, but what’s done is done. I had my moment of worry and concern… wondering why all of the sudden I seem to be heading in the wrong direction, and how come I couldn’t pull it together when I felt so good physically and mentally, and could this possibly mean that I didn’t know how to prepare mentally… but then I listened to a wise friend of mine who was patiently sitting there listening to my drama. He said to me, ”You know what Bri, sometimes you have to remind yourself that you’re just out there jumping in sand.”

And for me, a wiser piece of advice could not have been given. It is in my nature to freak out when I don’t have things go according to the plan I’ve made in my head. My preparation for Berlin included two standout performances in London and Stockholm, which obviously did not materialize. It is up to me to figure out why and make the proper adjustments. But I also just need to chill out, so to speak. I. Jump. In. Sand. Yes, it is my career, one that is extremely important to me and to which I have sacrificed and struggled a great deal for. But it’s still just a sport. At the end of the year is anyone but me going to remember the awful performance I had in Stockholm? Probably not. And me giving it too much energy is most certainly not going to help me jump far in Berlin. So now I have three weeks to prepare and my goal is simple: Jump farther in sand.

Bad Blogger

My plan was to blog a ton while I was in Europe this summer. I figured my life would have this exciting aura surrounding it as I traveled from country to country experiencing new things and living day to day uncertain of what was to greet me around the next bend. If anything, it was sure to be a lot more interesting than my groundhogs day existence living at the Training Center. And I wanted to share it all because…well, that’s what narcissistic people do. We blog, twitter, and facebook because we are absolutely certain that thousands of people all around the world are holding their breath in anticipation waiting to find out what’s going on in our lives. Which is why I feel like a disappointment. Here it is, almost the end of the week and I’ve been silent. I feel like I should blog, and then it hits me that I have nothing worthwhile to share. But that’s not totally true; I have found that lately I share whatever I find to be amusing or newsworthy in 140 characters or less, Twitter style. And once I’ve done that, I’m left with not much more to share here. So until I figure out a solution to this terribly frustrating conundrum, I am going to blog a few of my favorite tweets from the past week. Some may see it as a self-absorbed laziness…and they just may be correct.


Tweet: I eat gelato pretty much every night...but I'm walking more than usual with all this public transportation so I pray it evens out.

Americans are known to be the most overweight country in the World, and it’s sometimes hard to fathom when you go to countries and can’t walk five steps without seeing another gelato shop, pastry heaven, or beer garden. So I’ve deduced that it’s because they walk so much more. I don’t have a car here so I must walk everywhere, even if it’s to the train station a half mile away. And those extra calories I burn are sure to be replenished with all the gelato I consume. On a normal day it’s just a mere scoop, and then on occasion it can get out of hand…. But did I mention how much I’m walking?! Here is one particular day where we indulged at dinnertime.

Before...

After...

("Life is uncertain. Eat dessert first.")


Tweet: Riddle me this...why is a beer cheaper than the smallest imaginable glass of water in Germany? Guess it shows where their priorities are!

Nobody in Germany is properly hydrated. I know this for a fact. How could you be when it costs twice as much to buy a shot of water (or juice, cola, etc) than it does to buy a beer? The other night I ordered a fanta with my meal and I tried my very hardest to make it last by taking the tiniest imaginable sips and swirling my one piece of ice around until it slowly disappeared. But even with all that effort I was finished with it before my meal came. So I asked for some water, hoping they would just give me regular tap water and let me be. She served me a small wine glass filled with water and when I gulped that down she asked if I wanted more. It came straight in a glass and not a bottle so I figured at least it was free. Wrong. My Barbie sized fanta and two shot glasses of water cost more than my meal!


Tweet: I just got felt up at the security checkpoint. Like...for real, for real.

Granted, I did set off the beeper, even though I’m not sure how. But when I went to get frisked, it was as if I was on my way to serve a 6 month prison term. (At least this is what I believe they do to you when you go to the slammer.) I realize in America we are just a bit more prudish, but if I didn’t have as much melanin in my skin, you would have definitely seen my cheeks a bit flushed. My bra was fully cupped. (Notice I say bra, and not breast…this is one advantage to wearing a padded bra, the violation will be less severe.) Honestly, the whole thing was just a bit comical. I have no doubt they were just doing their job, but lets just say they take their job very seriously.


Sorry for the overlap, I promise to try and do better in the future!

Believing

“In order to be the best, you must first believe that you are.”

I have heard that quote a million times, and I fully trust its accurateness. It’s something I constantly preach to younger athletes who want to know the secret to success because I have learned over the course of my career just how important the belief in self truly is. It matters more than talent or ability, and is far more reliable than luck. And when you aren’t quite there yet, when the confidence you possess hasn’t quite reached the level you need it to, well then you fake it til you make it. Believe me, this is a useful tool. When you start acting a certain way, your mind will catch up. But if I’m being completely honest, there is still a difference between an act of believing, and that knowing that resides deep down in your gut.

Yesterday I competed in London, against some of the greatest jumpers in the World right now. It was probably a mini preview of what the finals will be like in Berlin. I didn’t jump that well, but I’m not beating myself up over it. I learned a lot and even though I’m capable of much better, it’s still an improvement for me that my bad days are not reason to hide my head in shame. And my biggest lesson learned is that I need to believe. I can rattle off the technical things I did wrong…my inconsistent approach that kept me jumping behind the board, blocking, not finishing my landing…but if I’m doing an honest gut check here, I know that most of those things would not have been an issue if I believed more.

I have to stand on the back of that runway and believe I can jump whatever it takes to win (on this particular day, 7 meters), and believe that I am just as talented as any jumper out there. I have to realize that someone could very well have a PR that is 60 centimeters further than me, and not be rattled by that and focus my energy on myself and what I’m capable of. And for all the armchair quarterbacks out there who swear that must be the easiest thing to do, stand on the back of the runway and then tell me. It is not easy, but I know I must do it. This may be more of a journal-type entry but being that I have never in my life written in a journal or diary, I’m writing it here so that I force myself to acknowledge that I need to expect better from myself.

There are plenty of things in life that we will strive to be better at. Athletics is one of the huge things for me at this point in my life, but all of us have something that we really want to improve on. It’s not enough to hope or wish for it. You must actively pursue success and engage not only your physical talents but your mind as well. You have to anticipate the greatness you want to achieve. I know enough to not expect perfection in anything I do, and that life will always bring you good days and bad days, but I do expect to be able to give my best in accordance to what I truly believe I’m capable of. And right now it’s important for me to believe that whenever I’m jumping and whoever I’m jumping against-- I have what it takes-- so that every time I step on the runway I am competing with that belief.

Making Sense and Cents

The sport of track and field doesn’t always make sense. There are those who get paid a good amount, plenty more that don’t, and a few sprinkled in between. During the time I’ve been a part of this sport, I’ve seen drastic changes in the way in which contracts are given out, and the amounts that people’s talents are valued at. Sometimes they make sense, and sometimes they don’t. Up until now, I’ve accepted whatever my position was and made the best of it, knowing that I had the ability to change my lot simply by being the athlete I knew I could be. Shoe companies will pay for success. They will pay to support athletes who make teams. I thought.

It seems as if I might have thought wrong. I have no idea exactly what makes an athlete a valuable commodity, I am just beginning to see that what I have to offer may not be it. Obviously this sport will more than likely not be my ticket to fame and fortune, I just hoped it could be my ticket to breath a little. And maybe I haven’t even got to the point where I should expect that kind of security, but I am now aware that where I imagined the top of the mountain to be, may just be an illusion. Getting paid just to be an athlete may not be in my cards. Don’t get me wrong…I like the fact that I can compete in gold shorts because I like them, and I can wear funky socks because nobody can tell me I can’t. But I’d honestly wear a brown paper bag if somebody wanted to pay me to do so. It’s no fun sitting and practice upset because the zipper on your one pair of jump spikes just broke, and now you have to go buy some new ones because you have that small little meet called World Championships coming up.

I don’t claim to be the best long jumper in the World…at least, not yet anyway. I think I’m decent, I think that as of late I’ve shown much improvement, and I think that my future looks very bright and promising. To me, none of that seems to come from left field. I know I haven’t had the world’s greatest success, but those who know me and have seen my athletic ability would vouch for my potential, I believe. I happen to be a person who is very honest and realistic when it comes to speaking of my abilities and what I’m capable of. There is no doubt that I am a confident person, but in a sensible way. I truly do believe that my best years are ahead of me though.

Not everyone shares that sentiment unfortunately, and as much as I need to be ok with that, I still find it a difficult pill to swallow. Everyone should know by now that I’m not afraid to struggle or work hard if it’s something I believe in. But just believing in myself makes it hard to pay the bills. I think that they think I’m old. And yes, we all know that 29 isn’t old in the normal sense, it just isn’t the age that spells f.u.t.u.r.e. You can give a 22 year old a six-year contract and you might get lucky. I might very well have two kids and arthritis in six years. So I get it. But as talented as I seemed to be when I was 22, I would put my money on the 29 year old me any day. But maybe that’s just me. For now though, I will continue to make it work because I have more important things on the horizon to worry about. Besides, I just bought three more pairs of socks I need to try and fit in before the season is over!

Europe...

I have learned to appreciate being in Europe over the years. This wasn’t always the case. The first couple of times I came over, I was miserable and entirely out of my element. I’d lose weight because the food was not the same... I would stay places and be completely baffled everyone didn’t embrace the same things we did. There are people who love to travel because they enjoy experiencing new things and can appreciate all the differences life has to offer…and then there is me. I’m the type of person that will order the same thing each and every time at a restaurant because I already know I like it. My favorite meals at my favorite restaurants are probably the only meals I’ve ever tried. But they make me happy…

But I do appreciate things now that I may not have before. And I’m open to the experience and going with the flow as much as possible.There are a few things that haven’t won me over though, and it’s very likely they never will…



*warm soda…what’s wrong with ice? How come I only get 1 cube if I ask for it? It is very rare that I ask for a diet coke, but when I do, I like it to be ice cold, not room temperature. Let's add to this the size of the drinks...everything is in shot size.

*small beds…I’m not even a big person, so I know this could be way worse, but I do move around a lot in my sleep and I prefer to sleep sideways on a bed. This may not work when I get a husband, but it also does not work in Europe as the beds are made for toddlers.

*no washcloths…hotels never have washcloths and this is bothersome to me as I don’t travel with my own, but definitely prefer to wash with one, especially after a day of jumping in sand.

*language barriers…of course I don’t expect everyone to speak English. I just don’t expect you to speed up and talk even faster when you know I don’t understand you. Becoming more animated and deliberate does not make your words any clearer, yet it seems whenever it is clear that we don’t understand each other, they think whole paragraphs said at rapid speed might help. It does not.

*the disregard for deodorant…no, this is not a continent wide problem, it just is very noticeable in certain parts. And as much as you must take public transportation, it can be unbearable at times.

*chain smokers…It has not yet made it across the pond that smoking is no longer the “cool” thing to do. Therefore, everyone from 8 years old to 80 seems to be smoking all.the.time…

*line cutters…this goes into a much bigger issue of the disregard for personal space, but just know you will get cut off in a hot second over here! Give an inch and you have given up your spot!

*Starbucks…y’all know I loooove me some Starbucks. But that’s only because it’s the most convenient and decent thing around in the states. Over here, most countries have a plethora of the cutest little cafes that serve the most amazing coffee. So I really can’t stand to see the big bully popping up everywhere you look.

*disappointing sandwiches…one thin slice of meet, a sliver of cheese, and some spread that’s neither mayo or mustard is the norm. And I still can’t figure out why they prefer the bread hard??!


Hopefully my list is not offensive to any of my lovely European readers. I plan to follow it up with all the things that make this place so wonderful! But I find that certain things will continue to baffle me no matter how much time I spend over here. For those of you that have visited Europe, are there any things I left off my list? And just to be fair, for you Europeans, what things would be on your list after visiting America?

Worst Travel...Ever!?

Actually, it’s not even close to being the worst travel ever, it just is the worst travel thus far of this trip and fresh on my mind…so we will exaggerate a bit for storytelling sake. It all started with the fact that I never went to sleep after the meet on Wednesday. After night meets it’s always tough to wind down because of adrenaline, extra cups of coffee, and large amounts of redbull. I’m basically a walking energizer bunny. So I stayed up catching up with friends, walking the streets of Luzern, and finding new uses for my laundry bag. By the time I packed up my suitcase and tried to lay down it was a hour and a half before I needed to be up. As we all know, the less time you know you have to sleep, the more time you spend worrying that you don’t have a lot of time and not actually being able to fall asleep. So I laid there, glanced at the clock a good 10 or 12 times, and turned off my alarm clock before it went off. Thus began my day of travel from Luzern, Switzerland to Zaragoza, Spain.

I walked to the train station and caught the 8am train that would get me to the Zurich airport in about an hour. Already I figure this to be a big score on my behalf because the shuttle they had me taking that the meet provided was leaving at 5:40am…a whole 5 hours before my flight!!! Anyone who knows how I like to travel, would understand how I find this to be unacceptable. So, I take off on the first flight to Frankfurt in a middle seat after they said I had requested a window for sleeping purposes. No biggie. I spend 2 ½ hours in Frankfurt and then I fly to Madrid. I finally have a window seat and look forward to some good rest. Except this seat doesn’t recline. My luck. So the extended nap that I thought I was going to get was more like fitful attempts at trying to find a comfortable position and failing miserably. I land in Madrid and I’m just happy to finally be in Spain. Except I’m not in the part of Spain I need to be in. The city I’m going to, with it’s small airport serviced by only 3 airlines, cost about $1200 to fly directly there so I’m going the budget route.

Luckily I have someone picking me up at the Madrid airport to drive me to the main train station that is supposedly about half hour away and then I’ll take a train to Zaragoza. But first we wait. We wait for someone else flying in and then we wait while he tries to remember where he parked the car. This takes a good 30 minutes. And once we are leaving the airport, our non-english speaking driver gets a call that someone else has just arrived that we might as well take with us, so we circle back to pick up one more passenger. I then proceeded to go on the scariest ride of my entire life. I literally saw my life flash before my eyes at least 50 times. The guy drove like a maniac. And what’s worse…he drove like a lost maniac. He didn’t know where the train station actually was and proceeded to get lost and go in circles over and over and over again.

So we arrive at the train station after the train we were supposed to be on has already departed. We change our tickets and hop on the next train leaving and barely make that one with minutes to spare. Except those few minutes somehow turn into an hour, as the train is delayed for Lord knows what reason…they gave one it just didn’t happen to be in a language I understood. We finally get moving and arrive at our destination 2 hours later. The best news I hear all day is when we step off the train and the lady there to meet us tells us that our hotel is connected to the train station. Finally…music to my ears. For 15 hours of travel you’d think I would have made it back home.