Chapter 4B - The Olympian: Alexandra Orlando - by Anne Shier (a.k.a. "Annie")

(Based on the book “Breaking Through My Limits:  An Olympian Uncovered”,

copyright 2012, by Alexandra Orlando)

As related by Ms. Orlando (from early-to-mid 2006):

I went back to the athletes’ village a different person.  Everyone had seen what had happened.  They were watching it on YouTube by the time I was back in my room – the whole Canadian team was aware that I had been disqualified, that the title I wanted, the dream of being the Pan American champion, was gone.  I went to the cafeteria and ate dinner, fuming.  I was so angry I put my fork through the Styrofoam plate and dented the table.  No one would talk to me.  It was deadly quiet all around me, with everyone whispering behind my back, but too scared to approach me.  I couldn’t even look at myself in the mirror.

Stef was competing the next day and had a shot for a medal, but I didn’t want to go and watch someone else take the title that I knew could have been mine.  Yet I knew that I had to support her, and I wanted her to do well, so I sucked up my pride, my hurt, and my anger, and I went the next day and watched the entire competition.  Stef did so well despite having had to deal with me as a teammate and the disappointment of our entire team, and I was so proud of her.  I trained in the back while they were finishing up, putting everything I had in me out on the carpet.   All the volunteers sat and watched me.  I had become Brazil’s sweetheart: the human interest story of the Games.  Everyone backed me and supported me.  They were with me, and I can’t quite describe what that feels like to have a community of people that don’t know you at all, rally behind you and believe in you.  It was so powerful, and it gave me the strength to stand tall.

I was still eligible to compete in three finals the next day, and I wanted gold…and that’s exactly what I got:  three gold medals.  The Canadian national anthem played three times in a row, but I was still not happy; as horrible as that is to admit, I wanted five golds.  And, I knew I could have had them.  Another athlete and friend of mine had to knock some sense into me, which I desperately needed, and I thank him for that.  He told me how incredible it was just to have one gold, let alone three.  “Snap out of it, grow up and be proud of yourself,” he said.  Some athletes only dream of doing what I did.  When I took the blinders off and stepped out of the gymnastics bubble, I got it. 

I saw what I had done, and the accomplishment that it really was.  I was the most decorated athlete at the Games, and was asked to be Canada’s flag bearer again at the Closing Ceremonies.  It put so much into perspective for me.  So it was just a title, so what!  In the end, what did that matter?  I knew what I had done, and I was in the best shape of my career, the most skilled and consistent.  When had anything ever been easy for me?  This was my time.

World Championships were held that year in a little town in Greece called Patras.  After the emotional whirlwind of Brazil, I wanted to compete more before I would try and qualify for the Olympics for the last time.  We ended up setting up a six-week trip that would take me to Slovenia, Germany and Bulgaria for three world cups and a training camp before I set foot in the Mediterranean.  My teammates, Stef and Ali, met me in Germany. 

Those six weeks were perfect for me.  I was making finals at world cups, consistently in the top fifteen, and training well.  Maybe after all this time, this was really my Games, and not Athens.  By the time we got to Greece, we were a well-oiled machine.  Out hotel overlooked the water, and the cool breeze coming in off the waves brought a calming feeling to all of us.  This was my third world championships, and I knew what to expect.  I knew the people, the teams, and the competition.  I was a veteran now, no longer that young girl, the up and coming gymnast learning as she went.  I was now teaching the others.

I knew how things were going to go; I could go through the motions without my nerves creeping up.  We competed one event per day, and after the fourth day, the top twenty would qualify for the Beijing Olympics.  All our parents decided to make the trip to see us, and it could have been the last time for all of us that we were out there.  This was a special trip, one they didn’t want to miss.  After the first few days, things were looking good, but I knew all too well that one day could make the biggest difference, and things could slip out of your hands within the blink of an eye. 

I was in my element, and performed to the best of my ability; that’s all I could do.  It was the highlight of my career.  I sat in the kiss-and-cry with my coach after my last routine, where you wait with cameras in your face to see your score, ready to capture your most personal reaction.  I was near the end of the pack this time as everyone else had finished competing, and my ranking would tell us if I was in or not.  When the score came up, I went into complete shock.  I couldn’t see my name at first, and in a fit of panic, I turned to my coach frantically:  “Why couldn’t I see my name?”  But, I was looking too far down.  “Look up,” she said.  I had placed ninth overall, and had not only qualified for the Olympics as the only North or South American athlete, but finished in the top ten – something no other Canadian gymnast had done in 24 years.  It was a surreal moment.  Nothing else mattered after that.  I had done it.  We had done it.  My coach embraced me and I could feel her heart beating out of her chest.  She was so happy.  Four years of heartbreak came pouring out of me.  Everyone was crying tears of happiness and relief all around me.  I had finally done it, put Canada on the map in a way that hadn’t been done in so long.

I showed girls everywhere that you didn’t have to be a size zero to make it in this sport.  You don’t have to kill yourself and your body to gain respect from your competitors.  You can be strong and lean and muscular.  You can be your own person, and be different.  When I was younger, I was told I would never make it as a rhythmic gymnast, that I didn’t have the right body type.  I was too big.  I was talented, but would never make it to the Olympic level.  “Give up and try something else,” that person would say.  I think back to that person now and smile.  No matter how many times people don’t believe in you, if you believe in yourself, you can break down barriers.  My sport wasn’t used to gymnasts like me, but I made them all accept me.  I didn’t let it break me.  It hurt to be seen as different for so many years, fighting against who I am; but, in the end, I wouldn’t change one thing.  If I showed one young girl that she can be anything she wants to be, then it was worth it.  You don’t have to look like the women in magazines to get ahead, to find love, to be happy.  You can be yourself.  Love yourself and anything can happen.

(to be continued in Part C)

copyright 2014, Anne Shier.  All rights reserved.