I’m driving full speed. Well, actually a solid three miles per hour, a “walking pace” as security guards call it, in my creaking golf cart past the crown-like stadium that seemingly juts out of the perfectly kempt ground and into the crystal blue London sky.

It’s a rarity to feel the heat of the sun on my back after weeks of doom and gloom clouds and constant downpour. But it seems even the weather is preparing for the next few weeks of activity. The sun stings my eyes and I try to fight against my lead foot that constantly begs me to shift the speed up to a dangerously rebellious “jogging pace.” The medley of “Chariots of Fire” follows me as I drive back towards the International Broadcast Center (IBC), headquarters for all things media related at the Olympics including, of course, NBC. Twenty-four hours later, my heart is pounding as “Chariots of Fire” blares through Olympic Stadium. Only instead of hearing it as I return to the IBC to complete another task for my intership, the famous film’s score plays as I watch a slew of mystical performances dedicated to the city of London, a parading of the world’s greatest athletes, and a speech by the man with my favorite accent in the world, International Olympic Committee President Jacque Rogge (hear him speak at USC Annenberg earlier this year).

As the lighting of the Olympic Cauldron concludes the ceremonies, I allow myself to break out some minor dance moves, since I am always about keeping it professional, to Sir Paul McCartney’s rocking, “Hey Jude”. All the while, standing behind commentators Matt Lauer, Bob Costas, Michelle Beadle, Ryan Seacrest and my role model, Meredith Vieira. Life, to put it succinctly, did not seem real. When I walked out of the 2012 Opening Ceremonies, I couldn’t speak. I walked in a dazed state back to the IBC. I walked alongside athletes from nations of which I had never even heard. Designer Ralph Lauren stood to my left carrying an American flag. A fellow intern stood to my right with a smile so big I could only assume my face had taken on a similar distinction. It was at that time it hit me: I was an intern at the Olympics. It was at that moment that I realized I was interning with the company responsible for transferring the feelings of pure joy, exhaustive intensity and raw emotion from the streets of London back to the people I knew across the pond. It was at that moment that I realized I was the luckiest girl in the entire world. It’s been five weeks of chaos mixed with enchantment and awe. From the seemingly little things like scouring London for plain, black umbrellas for the NBC talent, or delivering 28 cups of coffee at one time, or sorting through and labeling hundreds of tapes that will tell the stories and define the triumphs and the heartbreaks of The Games. To the “I can’t believe I’m really here moments” like when I got to escort Al Michaels to a field hockey game after which we sang the USC fight song as we walked back to the studio together. Or when I helped Apollo Ono find his spotlight during a shoot at Buckingham Palace. I even walked NBC Sport’s freshest face, Dan Steir, the new Senior VP of production, around the Olympic Park. There truly was not one day where I cannot give an anecdote filled with laughter, awe, or inspiration. The US Olympic team gained a new 104 medals to add to their stellar collection. I gained one million and four new life experiences to add to my lifetime collection of memories. I gained a self-awareness that had somewhat slipped in the familiarity of my life back in the states. School was school. My friends were my friends. Life was good. But I wasn’t attacking life with the tenacity that I had once felt.

At the Olympics, it’s full frontal attack all the time. If tasks aren’t completed, the games don’t go on. It’s as simple as getting someone a cup of coffee. It’s as difficult as an executive producer making the final call of what goes on air. Every task, big and small, contributes immensely to the overall game operations. Thanks to this, I have a returned desire to jump not just over a hurdle or two, but to embrace my inner Brigetta Barrett and hop easily over six foot walls to achieve my future goals. I gained the help and direction of incredible mentors. And in this case, my bosses and supervisors were the ultimate mentors. They navigate that fine line between enforcing the rules and making sure you are doing as you are told, but at the same time, wanting you to experience this once in a lifetime adventure. Hey, a little sleep might be sacrificed here and there, but if when just finishing a 7 a.m.-to-7 p.m. shift your boss offers you tickets to swimming finals, chances are you are going to take the tickets. More than anything else, I have gained an entire network of people with whom I hope to never lose contact over the course of my life. Whether it is working side by side as the future voices of the 2048 Olympics (I’m hoping for the games to be in Paris and to have my own personal runner with whom to share chocolate croissants all day); or sitting in a random pub years down the road at 2 am, after turning in our final reports, eyes barely open, yet determined to finish that final glass of wine; my future will most definitely include multiple members of my Olympic family. In times of crisis, they were my support system. In times of exhaustion, they were that extra shot of espresso. Through it all, we each experienced something so unique and astonishing that we will always be bound together by the games of the XXX Olympiad.

At the end of the day as I wrap up this summer experience, I think about how quickly these five weeks flew by. I am twenty years old and I was lucky enough to contribute to the 2012 Olympics by being an intern for NBC. It was incredible. As I look back I can only say two simple words: Thank you.

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