Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Gold Medal Moment

I love the Olympics.

That fact might surprise a few people. I don't really look like the type of guy that would be too interested in sports. Just a few days ago, I overheard a couple of my coworkers talking, and I asked if they were talking about the USA basketball team, and one of them said, "Oh yeah, I always forget that David follows sports." I don't know why that always comes as such a shock to people. Must be the glasses.

Anyways, I absolutely love watching the Olympics. These two weeks are probably my favorite time of each four years. I love watching sports that I normally don't get a chance to see, I love rooting on the USA and Slovakia, I love thinking about what it'd be like to live in a Scandinavian country where all the women are so pretty. But what I love most of all is being a witness to some of the greatest performances in sporting history--to see those defining moments that will be remembered by the world for a long time to come.

Just last night, I was able to witness a couple powerful moments. I saw the USA's women's gymnastics team win the gold medal for the first time since 1998, which was a very good thing to see since two nights ago I had to endure seeing Jordyn Wieber bawl her eyes out in the background while NBC was interviewing the girl who beat her in securing a place in the all-around competition. Last night I also saw Michael Phelps win his 18th and 19th medals, making him the most decorated Olympian in history and setting a record that I may not see broken in my lifetime.

They Olympics are great for moments like these, and I remember witnessing other such moments from past Olympics. I remember watching Muhammed Ali light the Olympic torch in Atlanta in 1996. I remember seeing Kerri Strug landing a vault on a sprained ankle, and I remember watching Michael Johnson run in gold shoes in those same games. I remember seeing Marion Jones win a few gold medals in 2000 (and I also remember when she had to give them back for doping). I remember watching the Canadian figure skating pair get jipped by the French judge in 2002. I remember seeing Phelps win the 200-butterfly by .01 seconds, and I remember witnessing Jason Lezak chase down the French team to win the 4x100 relay for the U.S. in 2008. And finally, I remember asking along with the rest of the world, "Are those Chinese gymnasts really old enough to compete?"

These Olympic moments are ones I may never forget. They've become a part of our world's story. (And, I might as well add, there are numerous other sporting moments that I'll always remember watching: Kansas' Mario Chalmers nailing a three to send the national championship to overtime in 2008; Santonio Holmes' sideline touchdown catch to win the Super Bowl for the Steelers in 2009; Lebron James scoring his team's last 25 points in a double-overtime playoff victory of the Pistons in 2007).

The thing about these moments is that they don't just happen. They developed out of all the smaller, unknown decisions made by those athletes. They came from choices to pass on dessert, to do one more rep in the weightroom, to take one more practice shot, to not hit the snooze button, to run one more lap. An athlete prepares himself every day to rise to the occasion and to perform in that gold-medal moment.

I wonder what the "defining moments" of my life would look like. Have I lived a life worthy of a video montage with a swelling theme playing in the background? Will my life be full of moments in which I elevate my game at crunch time? I want there to be moments when I choose wisely, live sacrificially, and take risks, but I worry that there will be more moments that I flake out on relationships, reside in safety and comfort, and take the easy road. I want there to be replays of me coming home strong and out-touching my opponent, not coasting in and taking silver. I want there to be more thrill of victory and less agony of defeat.

Gold medal athletes can teach us a lot about how to live life, I think. They understand sacrifice, hard work, perseverance, pressure, and excelling at the right moment. Those are all things that, quite frankly, I don't do well in my life, but that's not the way it needs to remain. At some point in life, each of those athletes set their sights on their goal and said, "I'm going to do whatever it takes to get there, to feel that medal around my neck, to hear my nation's anthem playing." And in life, it starts with that same sort of vision. It starts with saying, "This is the type of life I want to live, and I'm going to make choices today with how I spend my time, how I interact with other people, how I direct my thoughts, in order to make that life happen."

2 comments:

Silas Paul said...

Great stuff David. From a muscician's standpoint, what makes the best the best is the continual reflection on the fundamentals, the basics. And for them it is the major and minor scales. So I ask myself, what are the major and minor scales for my profession?

D-Heff said...

C'mon Sy, I play drums. You know I don't know anything about scales. I just hit stuff.