Just How Important is "All This"? - 04/23/07

Today's message is a good one. And one that needs to be oft-repeated - more to yourself by yourself than to you by me (or someone else).

I was thinking yesterday about why some athletes - or maybe it is many athletes - seem to fail when they prepare diligently for a competition. Now, there could be tons of factors which we need to dissect first in order to ferret out the root cause of any particular failure. But, for the most part, I don't think so. Every athlete fails at some point at some thing. The failure doesn't necessarily have to come when all the chips are on the table for our most important races, but a lot of our failures do seem to come at these most inopportune times.

Why is that? This is what I was thinking about yesterday. This is where the mental game really comes into play. When we are primarily defined by that which we most covet, we run into trouble. For those of you who have seen the movie "Chariots of Fire", think of Harold Abrahams. He was the cocky sprinter who thought he could never lose in the 100m dash. He also defined himself through his running. I don't remember his exact words in one of the poignant scenes, but he said something to the effect that when he looks down the track at the 4-foot wide corridor he's about to sprint down, he defines himself based on victory or defeat. If he wins, he essentially knows his life has not been for naught.

Contrast this with Eric Liddell, the man who hands ol' Harold his first defeat in the 100m. In this scene, Harold looks dumbstruck and like a spear has just been rammed into his heart. He looks to come undone. Eric understands the importance of running to himself and to his life, but he sees it within the context of living a balanced life as well. While important to some but not to others, Eric's religious faith is central and paramount to his life. He won't run on Sundays - the Sabbath - and so forgoes the 100m in the Olympic Games. He still wins the 200m and you can tell the experience has filled him up. By bypassing the 100m on that Sunday, Harold is assured the gold and wins it. He, too, appears filled up with the achievement. But, you realize that their paths to fulfillment are quite different and that the act of "being full" holds a different meaning for each of them. For Eric, it is the act of running. He feels free and happy. For Harold, it is the winning through running which is fulfilling.

Harold is held captive by the running whereas Eric is not.

All of our workouts and all of our races are not going to be happy, successful affairs. That's fine. This should be readily accepted. However, how do you feel after one such sub-par performance? Are you disappointed and vow to do better next time but happy that you were out there mixing it up, or do you sulk and get angry and play the "woulda, coulda, shoulda" game with yourself? Wanting to be your best, or wanting even to be THE best, does not automatically mean that sport becomes your identity. I would argue that if this is the case, then no matter what your results, you have failed. Sport isn't who we are. It is one thing of many we do with our lives which should constitute a fraction of our identities. And certainly not the crux of our identities.

Happy Training,
Nate Llerandi