Melissa Hollingsworth felt she let her country down by missing the podium in Vancouver, but to her surprise Canadians were right there to pick her up. (Richard Heathcote/Getty Images)

This story is part of CBCSports.ca's retrospective on the one-year anniversary of the Vancouver Olympics. To access all the articles, click here.

With the one-year anniversary of the Vancouver/Whistler Olympic Games upon us, I've had many different thoughts and emotions about my journey and the unexpected heartbreaking outcome.

From the time I was seven years old watching the 1988 Olympics in Calgary, Olympians became my role models. The most influential to me were Catriona Le May Doan and Marnie McBean, standing out more because of their personalities and confidence while doing something most of us thought unimaginable - winning Olympic gold.

By the time qualifying for the 2002 Salt Lake City Olympics rolled around, I had dedicated seven years of my life to the sport of skeleton. Still, I came up short in the final World Cup race of the season, and the spot on the Canadian Olympic team went to my best friend, Lindsay Alcock.

Three weeks before the opening ceremony, I was smacked with a dose of reality as I realized I'd be standing trackside watching the Olympics instead of competing in them. But instead of wallowing in my sorrows, I decided to become a sponge, soaking up the Olympic experience.

I was the first one at the track at 6 a.m. to get my spectator spot and cheer on my teammates and friends. I also wanted to learn as much as possible, because I told myself there was no way I would be standing trackside in four years time in Turin. It was my mission to get to those Games and not only compete, but stand on the Olympic podium.

Four years later, I realized my dream, watching the Maple Leaf rise as I stood on the Olympic podium in Italy. It was a relief and a wonderful reward to have my family and friends trackside.
After a decade of effort, I was exhausted and decided to take a year to recuperate with an eye toward my real goal - gold in 2010.

Tragedy strikes

When the Vancouver Games arrived, I was the World Cup champion and the gold-medal favourite on my home track, the fastest track in the world, where we can approach speeds of 145 km/h.

Before the Games had even started, tragedy struck when Georgian men's luger Nodar Kumaritashvili died after going off the track at the Whistler Sliding Centre. That ignited a frenzy, with the media all wanting to know how this was going to impact my race plan. I have to commend the Canadian sport system for how they prepared the athletes. The access to sport psychologists and preparing us for the worst that could ever happen - they made sure we were ready.

I had great training sessions, posting the fastest time in five of the six runs. The race was to take place over two days - two runs per day, with the fastest combined time in the four runs winning the gold medal.

After dealing with delays and mistakes, I was closing in on the Great Britain girl who was sitting in first place heading into the final run. As I approached the starting block, my coach Kelly Forbes told me my only cue for this run was my "heart." I had done all the training. I was prepared.

Standing on the start line in the silver-medal position, I couldn't even hear the track announcer say "track is clear" because the Canadian fans were cheering so wildly. I had a huge smile on my face. I felt ready.

The clock changed from a red light to a green light and I put my sled down in the grooves. As I crouched down to steady my sled, I said "heart." It was time to race.

Must be some kind of mistake

I rocked my sled back and exploded off the block. I navigated my way down the track and, as I came out of Corner 6, I tapped the left wall leading into Corner 7, sending me late into the corner. I oscillated to the roof of the corner down to the belly, and when the pressure released in the corner there was nowhere for me to go but to fall - into the right wall at a angle so severe that it bounced me over to the left wall.

Instantly, I felt the speed bleed out of my sled. I adjusted my steers for the rest of the track and became more aerodynamic, not giving up and praying as I came across the finish line that I had found some speed in the lower portion of the track. That wasn't the case, and I looked up at the clock to see a blinking "4" on the scoreboard. With one competitor to go, that meant I would be finishing in fifth place.

I knew it was important for me to show Canadians how proud I was to represent Canada, so I immediately grabbed our flag and held it high, then congratulated the two German girls who had already made their way onto the podium. Then I went into the finish house alone.

I sat there stunned, thinking this must be a nightmare and we haven't actually done our last run yet. I could hear the flower ceremony going on outside, and the names of my competitors announced onto the Olympic podium. There must be a mistake! My name is supposed to be announced onto the podium!

When my high-performance director walked in, I asked him what my start time was. "4.93." That's when the tears started.

I had pushed a personal-best start time, and the fastest of any competitor in the final run. I'd given myself the best opportunity to win the gold medal. I didn't play it safe to stay in the silver-medal position, and to me this was a small victory.

My country picked me up

Still in shambles in the finish house, I felt two bodies on either side of me. It was my dad and my step-mom. Through his tears, my Dad uttered "You're my hero."

I also had the support of my media attaché, Chris Dornan, who told me before I went into the mix zone to just be myself. That's what all of Canada saw - a very raw, emotional and genuine apology. There was no script, as I've had some people ask me. Every time I stand on the starting block of a race I represent Canada, and I felt I had let my country down.

When I got back to the athletes' village, I was looking for a hole to crawl into. Instead, my country picked me back up. The emails and hand-written letters started to pour in from across Canada.

The one that had the biggest impact was a letter from a five-year-old girl named Margo from B.C. She told me she'd been at the track and had cried when I didn't win a medal. She thought I deserved one, so she made one out of cardboard and tinfoil and sent it to me.

There are still letters coming in a year later, and the perspective I have drawn from my Vancouver experience is a positive one. Most Canadians reaching out to me have thanked me for representing Canada and have thanked me for being vulnerable. It has inspired them to go after their dreams, and lots of children are so excited to learn about getting into skeleton.

That's what our home Olympics have done for our country. We found a new sense of pride, and I can't wait to see the next generation of motivated Canadians, in whatever it is that they chose to do.

What's next for me? Well, I don't think I've reached my potential yet, so I have my sights on Sochi in 2014. I'll take it one year at a time.

Thank you, Canada, for supporting me and our Canadian athletes. Win or lose.