Olympic Recap Part Two
I want to start off by saying I truly had an incredible Olympic Games experience. I am beyond grateful to have been there and I’m proud to represent my country. It is something so unique that so few people get to experience, so I really did my best to enjoy every moment along the way.
This is an extra long post because I really wanted to get my full story down in writing. I include only straight facts of what happened down to the details. I also wanted to write it all out to help me process the entire experience. I don’t think I will ever really get over it, but at least I can continue to try to make peace with it knowing all the facts are out there. So thank you for taking the time to hear the story of the biggest heartbreak of my life.
To pick up where I left off in my last post, the first day of racing came around - it was finally time to race. I’d built up this great morning routine in the village over the past week where I would wake up, go down to the lobby and get a coffee, and then meet our team physio Chris Ellis and my teammate Stu McNay (US 470 helm) for a short mobility and stretching session to get warmed up. It became a really nice morning ritual for us. After that, I would take a quick shower, change, and pack my bag for the day. I would stop at breakfast and try to have some food but could barely eat anything in the mornings because of all the stress and nerves. Then I would head down to the venue and meet with my coach Chris and Tucker.
I had a pretty solid first day of racing with a 7, 3, 4, 1. I was a bit frustrated because I had been second in the first race, but hit some plastic in the water on the last downwind and crashed, which cost me 5 points. And then in the second race I was leading the second upwind when I again hit something in the water and crashed, costing me 2 points. I was still third overall after the first day, which put me in a great position for the rest of the regatta. But, later on, I realized just how costly those 7 points were - it would’ve been enough to put me in first place going into medal racing. But that’s sailing.
The next day we only managed to get one race in, and I was stoked to just survive the marginal conditions and finish 2nd. I moved up to second overall, and prayed for more wind - the forecast was looking bleak.
On day 3 we got 1 race in, and on day 4 we didn’t get any racing. What was supposed to be an 18 race opening series - a normal amount for a kite regatta - turned into only 6 races at the Olympics due to a combination of no wind and also disorganization from the race committee. I can’t help but point out how there were times when there was plenty of wind to go racing, but they wouldn’t send us out (even if our course area was free), and other times when there was no wind, but they sent us out anyways, only to abandon races. I remember on the final day of the opening series, it was getting towards the end of the day but there was still wind, and we were desperate to get races going. The race committee was moving the course further out where there was more wind. However, instead of motoring at full speed to move things along, the top mark boat was heading up the course at an idle 5 knots, in no hurry at all. Sure enough, they tried running one race for the women which got abandoned because the wind died. There were countless other inefficiencies like this that certainly impacted the regatta. As an athlete, you put everything you have into bringing your best to the competition, so for the organization to not do the same is beyond disappointing.
I ended up going into the medal series in third place. On one hand, it was extremely disappointing and frustrating. It was the least amount of races I’d ever done in the opening series of a formula kite regatta (and that says a lot given my 8 years of racing experience in this fleet). I felt like I didn’t get a real opportunity to showcase my skills and how much I had improved over the summer in the leadup to the Olympics. At the same time, I was in a dream position - I was in contention for a medal at the Olympics.
Medal race day was extremely difficult, and this is where everything happened. I’m not sure if I’ll ever truly accept it or get over it, and I know it will still hurt for a long time. But, I want to get my story out there and tell the facts of exactly what happened on medal race day at the Olympics.
After some wind delays, it was finally time to get out on the water. First, I had to win my semi-final, which I did, so I would be going into the final tied for third place, and all I would have to do was finish ahead of the competitor from the Netherlands to secure a bronze. But I was going for nothing less than gold, which meant I would need to win three races before anyone else - ambitious, but very possible. As I was warming up before the final, the wind slightly picked up, and I was starting to get a little overpowered on the 21m kite. But, Netherlands and France were both on 21s, so I opted to match my competitors. In the first race of the finals, Great Britain managed to win the race on a 15m. This meant GBR and FRA were tied with 2 wins, and NED and I were still tied with zero, so there would be another race. I tried to go back to the beach to change kite sizes since it had become clear the 15m was the faster kite in those conditions. However, there was a huge bubble of no wind on the beach, so none of us could get back to the beach to change kite sizes. Nevertheless, I focused on the goal, which was to finish ahead of NED.
I started the race in a really strong position. When I tacked onto starboard on the layline for the top mark, Netherlands tacked inside and clear ahead. France tried to tack inside Netherlands, but fouled Netherlands and crashed. Then, as I was rounding the top mark, France hit the back of my kite from astern, fouling me, and I put my hand up to signal to the umpires that I was protesting the incident. As I’m going downwind on starboard, Netherlands is ahead and windward. She gybed onto port, and as she was gybing, I had to raise my kite to avoid hitting her. I raised my hand again for the umpires - I was on starboard, and this was a very clear cut port-starboard foul. Because I had to avoid her, I was behind, and ended up finishing the race third behind GBR, who secured the gold medal, and NED, who finished second in that race. Silver would go to France. At this point, to me and my coach, it was unclear about the bronze because of my protests. I went to the finish boat after I finished the race to notify them of my two protests, one against France and one against Netherlands, and they acknowledged it.
I went back to my coach to sit on the boat and wait for any official communication from the race committee about the final results. After several minutes of waiting, there was still no communication about what the final results were. When we asked for confirmation over the radio, there was no response. At this time the wind died, so we packed the kite up in the boat and motored up to the finish boat to try to get some more information. Normally, the finish boat posts a scoreboard to communicate the official results and any penalties. There was no scoreboard up so we asked if they could tell us the results or if they knew what the protest decisions were, to which they said we needed to go to shore. It was unclear whether we were going into a protest hearing or something else.
When we got to shore we went straight to the protest room to try to figure out what the final results were, because at this point, still several minutes after the race, no one had told us what the results were. In the protest room, we waited for another several minutes before anyone would talk to us. Finally, the judges sat me down to do a normal protest hearing, but this did not make any sense to me because the final series is normally drone umpired, so whatever the umpires decide on the situation is the final call, and there are no hearings.
There were people constantly walking in and out of this room, and I was asking what the finish results were, but no one could tell me. I was there with my coach Chris, Tucker, Marcus Lynch (the US Sailing Team High Performance Director), and Sally Barkow (another member of our team staff). Finally, someone came out of another room, and after some time brought me an iPad that had a digital scoreboard on it. The digital scoreboard had me finishing the race third, but I also had a penalty. I had no idea what the penalty could have been for because I know I did not foul anyone, and when I asked, the umpire could not answer me and went back into the room. A few minutes later he came back out and said it was for the incident at the top mark. Confused, I asked what incident he was referring to. He said the umpires determined I had caused contact between France and Netherlands. At this, I was completely bewildered, given I had nothing to do with that incident and that France was on port and crashed into Netherlands who was on starboard. When I asked what rule I allegedly broke, the umpire shrugged and didn’t answer. One of the judges that was still in the room spoke up and cited rule 13, but that rule doesn’t apply in the Formula Kite class. He caught his mistake and then referenced rules 14 and 15, neither of which could possibly apply to this situation.
After this, I asked what the decision was on my protest against Netherlands. The umpire said, “What protest?” And right then I started to lose all my hope. I told him that I had protest against Netherlands on the first downwind where I was on starboard and she was on port. He again went back to the other room, came back a few minutes later, and said “We didn’t see it.”
So this confirmed that the bronze would go to Netherlands. And I finished fourth at 2024 Olympics.
I don’t remember much of the next bit because it’s still all kind of a blur. I just remember this numb feeling all over my body, and just completely shutting down. We were taken outside and I sat down with my team on this wooden bench and just started crying.
Everything I’d done and worked for the last several years.
Everything my family and I sacrificed.
All the support from my team and foundations and donors.
Everything I did… and to get so close to earning a medal, but lose because of something completely out of my control.
That was heartbreaking.
Eventually I managed to get up and go see my family and friends who had all stayed at the beach. I hugged my boyfriend and my parents.
I somehow walked all the way back to our team container. I felt empty. Later we went to our US team house for a team dinner that night. I’m really good at putting on a face so I just did that and tried to make the most of this time with the team. That night I barely slept, I just cried because I was so heartbroken. How could this happen to me? Why did it have to happen to me? I also tried to phrase it as what is this trying to teach me and what is the point of this experience? But in the end it was just why did this have to happen.
The next few days are also a bit of a blur. We packed up all the equipment at the venue and put them in the containers which would be getting shipped back to the US. I moved out of the Olympic village and went up to Paris for the closing ceremony. I don’t remember much other than I didn’t really want to be there and was only there because I didn’t want to skip out on that experience.
I was so exhausted, not so much physically, but mentally. I was getting so many messages but I didn’t have the mental energy or capacity to respond because I just felt empty. I had been off my phone and off social media for the last couple weeks and I just couldn’t even deal with it. At this point I just wanted to leave France and go home. But I didn’t even know what home was really like because I hadn’t had a real home in several years. But I couldn’t wait to get back to where I grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area.
Back at home, I had a huge adrenaline crash and was feeling sick for several days. It was at this time I started reflecting on everything that happened, especially on that final day of racing. I started questioning if maybe I had done something wrong. I went so far as to watch the video of my race from the official broadcast, hoping to get some insight into why the umpires made the decisions they did. But watching the video made me even more frustrated.
Not only did the video show all the incidents, but you could also clearly see me put my hand up and how I was fouled. Imagine Simone Biles doing a flip on the beam, and everyone sees it on TV, but the judges don’t, so it doesn’t get scored. At least, in gymnastics, athletes and coaches can submit an appeal if they think the judges have made a mistake, which gives the judges an opportunity to correct mistakes and also keeps them accountable. There is no system like this in umpired sailing - whatever the umpires decide is final, and there is nothing that can keep them accountable if they make mistakes. I have nothing against making mistakes - every human makes mistakes, but for them to not admit to the mistake or correct it goes beyond my understanding. And it’s a fact that they made mistakes in their decisions when umpiring my race, and it ultimately cost me a medal.
It’s one thing to lose a medal because you didn’t perform as well as your competitors. It’s another to lose a medal because of decisions that umpires made.
Watching the video made me feel so many more things. I was extremely angry and frustrated, but at the same time, it confirmed that I did everything right. I sailed clean and didn’t make any mistakes. And if I were to do it all again, I would do the exact same thing - I’ve found a lot of peace in that.
Now, part of me just wants to move on from all of this. Another part of me feels like I deserve some kind of official reparation or recognition. At the same time, I’ve felt compelled to make an effort to amend the rules so something like this doesn’t happen again. But the biggest thing is I wish the relevant parties would step up and do the right thing.
I know it will take a long time for me to heal from this loss. However, I am growing, learning, and still becoming a better version of myself through this process. My fire has dimmed, but it’s still burning somewhere deep inside. My motivation to come back stronger and better than ever has only sky-rocketed, and I’ve already been spending the last few months laying the groundwork for my LA 2028 campaign. I have unfinished business, but I also know I still have more to give in this sport and in my professional athletic career.
At the same time, I’ve gained a new perspective and started thinking more about life outside of sailing, and I’m excited to pursue some projects in this space. I’ve learned I need to improve my work-life balance for my next campaign, so I’m excited to be setting up my life in a way that will help me stay more balanced the next few years.
In the meantime, I’m really grateful to all of my amazing sponsors, donors, and supporters for being in my team. Your kindness and generosity has allowed me to live out my dreams and still be at the top of the sport for nearly a decade now, whether the results show it or not. I’ve had the privilege of working with some incredible brand partners and I’m looking forward to chasing LA 2028 together.
Lastly a massive thank you to my amazing inner circle team: Chris, Tucker, Evan, and Jess. I could not have gotten through the last few years without you. Thank you for choosing to do this with me.
To whoever is out there reading this, thank you for making it to the end of this rather long post and for following along in the life of Daniela. It’s a real pleasure to have you here, and I’m excited to continue the journey towards LA 2028 together, however it ends up.
