An athlete’s guide to the crazy sacrifices you make to become an Olympian

WHAT does it really take to become an Olympian? As someone who came close, I can tell you it takes a whole lot more than talent and luck.

Cassie (in blue) executes a roundhouse kick to her opponent’s head.

IT’S every athlete’s dream to represent their country at the Olympic Games.

But even after years of hard work, few get the chance to achieve it.

Some will put it down to talent, others may say it’s luck.

But as someone who was close, I can tell you it’s neither of those things.

It’s about sacrifice and dedication.

Sixteen years ago, as an ambitious eight-year-old, I watched Lauren Burns win Australia’s first gold medal in taekwondo at the Sydney Olympics.

It was in that moment I set my first goal: to one day represent Australia in taekwondo.

My parents decided to enrol me in a local taekwondo club purely so I could learn basic martial-art skills.

But after my first lesson I was hooked.

Taekwondo didn’t come naturally to me. I saw others who were better, could kick higher and punch harder. But I was determined to be as good, if not better.

Black eyes and bruises came with the hard training.

Cassie and her coach at the national championships in 2012.

Cassie with her two coaches after medalling at one of the many Olympic selection competitions for the London Olympics.

Cassie during the medal ceremony at the Australian Institute of Sport after qualifying for the Australian team.

Qualifications for the national championships.

When I turned 10 my parents allowed me to compete in my first sparring competition.

It was the first competition I won, and I never looked back.

The more I trained and competed as a junior (under 14) the more I wanted to make it to an elite level.

After achieving my black belt, I made it a goal to qualify for the Australian team.

This meant I had to leave my local club and join one more than an hour from where I lived.

That’s when the hard work, dedication and sacrifice really started, not just for me, but for my family too.

During high school years I never socialised like my peers did, and studies were not a priority either.

Everything I did was to get a little bit closer to achieving my dream.

I would rush home from school to begin the journey from Brighton to Campbellfield.

If my mum was at work, I would take the train.

This would be a round trip of more than three hours.

I trained seven days a week, worked at a cafe and studied when I could.

My body was constantly battered and bruised, often with black eyes and bruised arms.

But the hard work was paying off.

I represented Victoria at numerous state championships and eventually made it to the Australian team.

One of the many gruelling training sessions.

Cassie represented Australia at the New Zealand Oceania Championships in 2009.

Cassie (in blue) executing a roundhouse kick to her opponent’s head.

Taekwondo is a full contact sport and fighters must wear chest, head, mouth, arm and leg guards.

Being only 5’4 meant I had to compete in the under 52kg weight division in Victoria and under 49kg weight division at international competitions.

This was my achilles heel.

Naturally, I was 56kg. My relationship with food became dangerous.

Weigh-ins would be twice a day, morning and night and I would starve my body of food and water in the lead up to a competition.

When I was at school I used to hide in the library at lunchtime so my friends didn’t ask why I wasn’t eating.

They thought I was crazy.

A week out from competition, I would try to lose water weight by sitting in a sauna with cling wrap around my torso, legs and arms, as well as layers of clothes.

When you have a dream, you will literally do whatever it takes to achieve it.

All the hard work and sacrifice paid off when Cassie won.

But the fights with my family were non-stop.

Dad didn’t agree with the starvation side of the sport, and mum was pushing me to make the most of my education.

Naturally, my studies suffered: Year 12 and my first year at university were a write-off.

There is little-to-no funding in taekwondo so I couldn’t make it a career, even if I went to the Olympics and won.

But I tried to do it all.

Travelling interstate and overseas for competitions took a toll on uni results and attendance.

I was always hungry, there was no funding and the casual money I was making went towards flights, training and competitions.

It wasn’t until halfway through second-year uni I had to make one of the toughest decisions.

Pursue the Olympic dream, or hang up the belt and focus my energy on a career.

I decided on the latter.

My decision has created an appreciation and admiration for those going for gold at this year’s Rio Games.

As we sit down to watch our Aussies take on the world’s best, take a moment to reflect on their journey and just how much it’s taken to wear the green and gold.

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Twitter: @cassiezervos

Originally published as An athlete’s guide to the crazy sacrifices you make to become an Olympian