Steven Holcomb - But Now I See: My Journey from Blindness to Olympic Gold

S tanding on the ice of the bobsled sliding track before the most important run of my life, I welcome fear like an old friend, and I know my three teammates feel the same way. We are at the 2010 Vancouver Olympic Games, and it is intense. All four of us shake our hands in the air as if weve touched a hot plate. One of my teammates rolls his head from side to side like a fighter before the start of a round, and we bounce on our toes to burn off nervous energy. This lasts only a couple of seconds, but it feels longer. Time passes slowly and quietly once I burrow deep into the mental rabbit hole that athletes call the zone. There are hundreds of screaming fans nearby, thousands in the stands, and more along the length of the sliding track, but the place might as well be empty. The cheers are like white noise. Every muscle is taut, every nerve is on edge. This is it.

We press the heels of our spiked shoes on the two-inch wooden block that passes as a starting line, and I crouch into a standing sprinters stance, loading all my energy into my glutes and quads. There is a verbal cadence, like a countdown, that establishing of a rhythm so we can explode in sync toward the sled. I finally take a few deep breaths as the cadence begins.

My teammates and I havent been silent, but we dont need to share our feelings either. We all know the stakes. Six seconds from now we will be loaded in the sled that I will pilot down one of the most dangerous tracks in Olympic history.

I drive The Night Train, an intimidating, flat black, four-man bobsled loosely named after a Harley-Davidson motorcycle that screams badass. It is already the most famous bobsled in the world, one that has sparked all kinds of crazy rumors about secret metal compounds and paints developed by NASA. We dont discourage such talk; in fact, we do what we can to foster it. Theres nothing wrong with setting up rent-free residency in your opponents heads, which is what weve done by staying quiet and letting the rumors fly. Now, with the words USA-1 painted on its nose, The Night Train looks fast even when its sitting still.

Every run begins from a dead stop. Our only propulsion comes from gravity and the initial force the four of us exert through pushing, which will start in less than a second. Weve made only about forty runs on this track, not a big number for an Olympic venue, but the Canadians decided early on to limit accessa smart move from a competitive standpoint, but one that has earned them a lot of criticism as the Vancouver Olympic Games have progressed. Bobsledding, luge, and skeleton use the same track. Those are, perhaps, the only Olympic sports where the host nation has a decided home-field advantage. The Canadian hockey team has the roaring support of the fans, but the dimensions of the rink arent changed to suit the team. The nets are the same size and the blue lines are in the same place as in every other hockey rink. The same is true in figure skating, half-pipe snowboarding, swimming, tennis, and basketball: the home team might have the crowd on its side, but the playing field isnt customized to benefit one team over another.