Reflection in the Mirror

The silvery glass reflected my image back to me with absolute clarity and I didn’t like the reflection I saw in that mirror.

A female athlete in her prime, disqualified by a simple decision to smoke weed before the Olympics. To hell with all of them!

If so many of the States allowed weed, why wasn’t I allowed to smoke a little when I felt low or even for pleasure. It wasn’t exactly performance enhancing, or was it? Maybe a little medicinal, to help me relax. I felt angry. I felt sad. I felt as if I had let myself and my family down. My adoptive parents would be disappointed in me.

Of course, the papers had called it Marijuana and went into great detail about how it violated “the spirit of sport”. Did it pose a risk to athletes? I couldn’t see how that could be the case.

Some American sports leagues had loosened rules on weed, but it is banned by the World Anti-Doping Agency. Why are there two different standards? Everyone should loosen the rules on weed, shouldn’t they?

My mind wandered back to the night it happened…

I was sitting around a barbeque with my friends and out came the pot.

“Guys, I can’t smoke that stuff. I’m going to be tested in a few days.”

“Sandy don’t be such a snob. The cannabis will be out of your system by tomorrow!”

Jake thought that he knew so much about athletics testing but he didn’t. Weed can be detectable in bodily fluids for 1 – 90 days after the last use. It depends on a number of factors.

It reminded me of that Antanaclasis by old Ben Franklin “your argument is sound, nothing but sound” as Jack’s argument just wasn’t sound, it was ludicrous. He was making wild assumptions under the influence of alcohol. The alcohol had definitely reached his brain and impaired his better judgement.

I stood my ground in the group but as the night wore on and more alcohol was consumed, my mind seemed to have forgotten the promise I had made to myself. With no coach around to watch my every move, I felt a need to have some freedom and to relax and unwind. What were mates for other than to hang out with and enjoy a little bit of weed?

The weed was passed around the circle, and I inhaled with a shallow breath, thinking of a recent family tragedy. I could feel the impact on my nerves a few minutes later. We had an incredible night together as a group of friends and then in the early hours of the morning, a few of us fell asleep in a pile on the sofa.

I slept in until about 10am, when I finally emerged, a little hungover. We made a cooked breakfast and drank some takeaway coffee from Starbucks. Well, at least I got my Starbucks Rewards!

The next week, I was back at athletics training and my performance seemed to be the same as the previous week. I was in a moral dilemma whether to tell the coach and the sports team about it. Would I be able to swap some “clean” urine for my own? After all, some of the Russian athletes seemed to have perfected the art of avoiding urine tests when they had banned substances. Maybe my urine would be tested and treated as a bit of a joke, and everything would continue on as normal?

After a few days of hard training on the track, I was preparing my colorful wigs and selected the red one. It always looked amazing flowing out behind me as I ran. The press even described me as having a vivacious personality and a blazing speed. I hoped that my “blazing speed” would get me on the medals podium at the next Olympics or the one after that. I’d been entered into individual and team events with my relay team. My relay team wanted me to wear the long blonde wing and false eyelashes for the maximum amount of attention in the race. We wanted to be seen to be fashionable and gold medal winners at the same time. My hair would match my medal … golden blonde! I felt justifiably proud of all the hard training I had done over the years. Expectations were high!

I ran with my heart pounding as my trainers covered the track as if I had wings and was flying along, pointing at the clock as I crossed the finish line. My dreams were going to come true!

Then as I walked back to the change room, panting after the exertion, one of the officials called me over and took me into one of the secluded offices.

“Did you know that Marijuana was discovered in your urine sample?” the official asked, with his eyebrows lifting in curiosity. “Can you tell us a little bit more about that?”

I stood mute and in shock. There was no getting out of this! I felt trapped and alone.

Soon, my coach came in and the officials presented the evidence from the Lab. It had been tested twice, just to make sure.

“Did you smoke week?” my coach whispered.

I couldn’t deny it anymore and nodded my head slightly, as tears began to run down my face as my dreams went up in smoke. This is so unfair, a voice said in the back of my mind. I was led away to the changing rooms and asked to return home. I would get a call later in the day.

I sat alone at home and then it came to me. Perhaps I should be honest and tell them that my biological mother had died a week before the trials, and it had affected me deeply. Nobody noticed my mental health had deteriorated and I was struggling to cope. Being mentally unhealthy is the invisible “disease”. Once I had made the decision to tell the truth to the media, some of my fellow athletes were telling me that I didn’t need to explain to anybody why I took the weed. It was my own personal business. Indeed, it was personal and opening up led to criticism on social media. Are people never happy? Do they need to drag you down personally on social media channels until you feel even worse?

Fortunately, my best friend came around to see me and cheer me up. She explained that it wasn’t the end of the world and that I would still have a career after these athletics events. I could keep training and winning medals.

Right then and there, I decided never to use weed again while I was competing in international athletics. Perhaps after I retired, I could take a chance and smoke a little recreational weed but only after my career had ended. The lesson had been learnt. Indeed, it has been learnt. It wouldn’t need to be learnt twice!

(This is a work of fiction, based on fictional characters)