May 14, 2001

By Kimberlee Dilda, Carolina '01 Rowing

Mia and Marion know it. Michael and Sam Perkins know it. Vince and Antawn and what seems like half the Olympic gold medal winners know it. And, fortunately, now I do too. Carolina spirit, Tar Heel pride. The feeling of putting on the sky-blue jersey and walking onto the field or court or climbing into a boat and hearing the voice over the loudspeaker announce the name of this school. The feeling of hearing the crowds cheer just because you wear that color or random people stop you in awe because you are a Tar Heel athlete. The feeling of watching the men's basketball team pull out an amazingly tight game against Duke, see Marion out-run a world record or have half our soccer team help to win the World Cup, knowing all the while I am a part of the same program that produced them and countless other amazing individuals that have gone on to do incredible things.

I will never be a professional rower. I most likely won't ever row competitively again beyond graduation. I won't stand on some podium in a beautifully rebuilt city and hear my national anthem with a medal around my neck. The majority of athletes at UNC who sweat and run and lift and push themselves every single day won't either. But what's so amazing about being a Tar Heel is it's not all about medals and records and money. No matter where any of us end up in our athletic careers, we all have the four or five years we spent at Carolina, as a part of one of the best programs in the world. We live the Carolina pride, we embody the spirit of UNC athletics, we are what little kids dream of and watch on television and aspire to be.

I have rowed in California and Ohio, Michigan and Massachusetts, Florida, Georgia, Tennessee, Virginia, and Washington, D.C. I have stayed on a Naval Amphibious base, rowed with manatees and dolphins and jellyfish, been on almost every water supply in this huge country. I have traveled for 16 hours in a van with 15 of the most hilarious women I have ever met, slept on planes, trains, and buses, eaten and stayed at every kind and type and style establishment ever created. I have been asked to speak to little kids about everything from the importance of sports to the importance of sunscreen because there is something about being a Tar Heel that commands respect. I have 30 best friends I've spent four years of adventures and laughter and heartache and hard work with that will be part of my life forever.

I've learned to appreciate sunrises from being on the water at 5:30 a.m. and lazy afternoons when practice was canceled. I've learned to appreciate the value of food, taking care of my body, and letting it recover after a hard race or a hard celebration. I've learned respect is earned by what I do, not what I say, but even what I say is important. I've learned being part of a group means representing them, whether I want to or not. I've learned hard work really does pay off and discipline isn't something a coach or anyone else can give you. I've learned classes and winning and practicing are important, but life keeps going even when those things don't go as you want them to and the only thing you can control is how you respond and what you take from them.

I've learned and gained and done so much I never would have had the chance to learn and gain and do because of being a varsity athlete at this incredible school. I am so proud to have had the chance to steal my own piece of the magic that embodies this place. And as I stand at the end of my career here, I can only hope every incoming athlete, and even those here now, realize just how incredible it is to be a Tar Heel. Thank you for four wonderful years.

-- Kimberlee Dilda recently completed her fourth year as a member of the Carolina rowing team. The Charlotte, N.C., native was on the varsity for three seasons and rowed on the varsity eight this year.