INTRO Tis past August, Hannah Aspden ’22 competed in her second consecutive Paralympics. Finishing with a time of 1:09.22 in the 100-meter backstroke, the Raleigh native is the first athlete from Queens to win a gold medal in either the Olympics or Paralympics. While in Tokyo, Aspden also competed in three other events including the 100-meter freestyle, 100-meter breaststroke and 200-meter individual medley.
Aspden, who was born without a left leg, began her national team career at age 13. Tree years later, she became the youngest U.S. swimmer to medal at either the Olympics or Paralympics in Rio in 2016, where she took home two bronze medals. She joined the Queens swim team in 2018.
We asked the multimedia storytelling major to write about her experience in Tokyo, as this was an Olympics and Paralympics like no other. With so many Covid restrictions in place, the biggest one being her family wasn’t allowed to join her there, Aspden had to dig deep to find her zone, but find her zone she did. Read on to learn what it’s like to bring home the gold.
—Lori K. Tate HANNAH ASPDEN ’ 22 I’M
surrounded by some of my dearest friends and fiercest competitors sitting just inches
away from me, but I’m ready. We all are, and it’s going to be a fight, and for the first time at a meet like this, I’m going into that fight sitting in first place after the preliminary heat. It’s easy to get dragged into the stress of that, the doubts and watching what my competitors are doing. Tey say you can’t win a race in the call room but you can definitely lose one. Instead, I put on some funky, energizing music with a fast tempo and a good beat, and turn the volume up. I dance to keep my heart rate
up and my mind in the zone. I trust in my training and remind myself of what I am here to do. I’m here to give it everything I have, and to enjoy every second of it. We train for years, constantly challenging ourselves, holding on to this dream. And now it’s here. A year later than expected, but it’s finally time. We walk into an empty stadium, thousands of vacant seats, our names echoing, blinding lights above us. I see a few of my teammates up in the stands shaking cowbells, cheering, and I can’t help but smile and think about my family back home. Usually, I’ll look to them before I swim. My dad and I will nod at each other, and that’s how I know they’re watching and he knows I’m ready. Tey aren’t here, but my team is, my second family,
so I find them in the stands, waving flags. I notice the cameras, but little do I know just how many people are on the other side of them watching, hearts racing like mine.
15
Page 1 |
Page 2 |
Page 3 |
Page 4 |
Page 5 |
Page 6 |
Page 7 |
Page 8 |
Page 9 |
Page 10 |
Page 11 |
Page 12 |
Page 13 |
Page 14 |
Page 15 |
Page 16 |
Page 17 |
Page 18 |
Page 19 |
Page 20 |
Page 21 |
Page 22 |
Page 23 |
Page 24 |
Page 25 |
Page 26 |
Page 27 |
Page 28 |
Page 29 |
Page 30 |
Page 31 |
Page 32 |
Page 33 |
Page 34 |
Page 35 |
Page 36 |
Page 37 |
Page 38 |
Page 39 |
Page 40 |
Page 41 |
Page 42 |
Page 43 |
Page 44 |
Page 45 |
Page 46 |
Page 47 |
Page 48 |
Page 49 |
Page 50 |
Page 51 |
Page 52
