Although we are only a few days into the Sochi games, I am reminded of past performances…the ones that really stand out. Scott Hamilton, Bonnie Blair, Picabo Street and the USA Hockey teams. These folks were not only in their peak physical condition, but they made people stand up and take notice of their sport for a couple of weeks.
But then I think about those that made headlines in other ways. Remember Eddie "The Eagle" Edwards? He was the British Ski Jump participant who turned heads by the fact that he came in, not just dead last, but by a significant margin dead last. But I remember his goofy look and winning smile just as much. He knew he wouldn't win a medal. No one had that expectation of him. He is the epitome of the Olympic spirit…that for so many athletes that participate in the games, just making it in is the accomplishment. For them, they just want to be called an Olympian.
And what about Dan Jansen? If there is a role model for me from any games, it is this guy. For more of his story (in case you don't know it already) check out this video http://www.youtube.com/watchv=wPYiMekC6jk. This guy had trained like a machine for years and years and years. He participated in 4 Olympics! As a thought experiment, think about where you were in your life during the Salt Lake City Olympics. Yeah. That was a while ago, huh? Now imagine an athletic career lasting that long. For those of you my age, do your knees work just as well as they did 12 years ago? Right. So this is Dan Jansen who, although he was favored to win gold in every games, only has one.
Dan Jansen is someone I consider an "everyman." Bad stuff happened at exactly the worst time…happens to all of us. He had some really bad days…happens to all of us. He felt like he wasn't even "all there" for some of them…wait, you, too? He was distracted, frustrated, mourning…in effect, living in a human body with human emotions at a time when he was expected to be superhuman. I admire his fortitude. I admire his real-ness. It is unfathomable to skate faster than humanly possible the day after your sister dies. But he did. And he fell. Then he got up again. Then he did it four years later. Then he fell. Then he got (are you sensing the theme here?) up again…and so on. Until he got that gold…the fourth time around. I don't know if he feels this way, but I see it as not being as much about the gold as it was about proving to himself that he could actually accomplish what he set out to do in the first place. He wouldn't give up his dream until he achieved it.
Dan Jansen never quit, even after a slew of awful days, and less than perfect race events. I am not an Olympian. Never will be. But I know what a bad day feels like, and I know what it feels like to just go out and get in a workout no matter how crappy my life is at the moment. I know what it is like to train through the pain -- not physical pain, that is something different. Working through the emotional agony of life-altering events through physical exercise. DJ didn't use the excuse of his circumstances to justify his performance, but no one would begrudge him that if he did.
So I wonder what that is, exactly. What kind of internal drive brings that? It's not just a don't quit attitude, stubbornness, or pressure from oneself, family, or country. I think it's also about seeing yourself years later, looking back on the moment right now. What if you have to say to yourself, "if I had only…" Jansen showed up and tried. Didn't go the way he wanted it to. But instead of quitting before he started, he tried, failed, got up again, repeat. As far as I'm concerned, he needn't have any regrets for suiting up and showing up.
The lesson I take from his example is this: between now and Ironman, I'm going to have some bad days. This is a fact. It may even be a bad day on August 3rd (God, I pray that it isn't). But I will suit up, show up, and do the best I can with what I have been given at that moment. There are no medals in my future except the ones they give to everyone else who crosses the finish line. There are no sponsorship deals, book contracts or news interviews for me. But that isn't why I'm doing this, and I don't think that's why Jansen did it either. I want to try my hardest at a sport I love.
Hannah Kearney, Moguls medalist, recently referred to her relationship with skiing as her "boyfriend." When we have significant others in our lives, we love them and do so much to be with them. But to quote Billy Joel, "you may love 'em forever, but you won't like 'em all of the time." I feel like that sometimes with triathlon. Jansen probably felt that way with speed skating. But, like with all good relationships, you figure out what the problem is, work on it, push through it, and hopefully get stronger. Dan got stronger, and he has Lillehammer gold to prove it. However, even without it, he's still a champion in my mind.
Before the Olympics officially started, Heidi Kloser sustained a knee injury in a mogul training run. Her games were done before they ever started. In tears, she asked her parents if they would still think of her as an Olympian. What I found interesting is that she marched with her teammates -- on crutches -- in the next day's Opening Ceremonies. I think everyone in the world would have answered her question with a "yes," but more importantly, I think she believes that she is indeed an Olympian. I don't know, but in my mind, nothing matters more than whether or not you believe in yourself.
I am a triathlete, because I love to swim, bike and run, but I also believe I am an Ironman. I just have to cross a finish line to prove it to myself.
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