|
It is not easy for the casual athlete to truly relate to a professional athlete; their backgrounds are simply too disparate for deep understanding. And it is equally difficult for athletes of any ability to find the innate attraction of a sport, the single thing that drew them to The Game in the first place. Once Pandora’s box of doubt and cynicism toward an activity is opened, basic thrills are hard to recapture.
Players on strike, a bum knee that won’t heal, some jerk who plays too rough in a friendly game, running shoes that cost more than your first three-piece suit, 90 minutes of televised commercials in a 48-minute-playing-time event. These are the signs and symptoms of sport’s Dark Side.
Who can blame an athlete for souring on the whole idea of sports in America? Where is the love of the game? Where is that powerful draw that pried us out of bed at 5:15 a.m. to run through the darkened streets in search of a slimmer waistline, a better heart, a better life? Why do we trade a scheduled tennis match for an afternoon in front of the tube? As Don Henley asked in his song, “The End of the Innocence,” “Did we get tired or did we just get lazy?”
Why we do sports
And as we face those hard questions under a sky of negativity, we enter a period of choices and decisions. For me, it was the time when I realized I was no longer a professional triathlete. It forced me to peer over the edge of the great cataclysm. This is the period of exploration in which an athlete begins their search for some meaning to the games they play. This is the time when they must unlock the raison d’etre for welcoming that 5:15 alarm like an old
friend.
A lot can be found during one’s search—things you aren’t even looking for will be made known to you quite accidentally. You may enjoy playing softball on the weekends because you think it keeps you fit. But one day you suddenly realize it’s the camaraderie that draws you to the diamond, not the slimmer waistline. You may tell yourself that you watch football on TV because you like the excitement of the game, but in reality you only want to be able to talk about it with your pals on Monday morning.
And it matters little what your skill in sports is. A lifetime pro may discover, as sports columnist Bill Lyons says, “The athlete is the only member of our society who has to die twice.” And the weekend warrior from Wichita will learn that running drops the pounds faster than swimming. It’s all relative in the search phase. If you are looking, you always find something.
I was a professional athlete for almost 20 years and I think I found out more about the role sport played in my life and the world around me in the first year I was retired than in the previous 10 years. How could that be? Simple. I wasn’t looking hard enough while I was focused on training and racing. Oh, every once in awhile something would sink in, usually while traveling in some third-world country to compete, and I would take note of how sport had a made a difference in my life. But for the most part, when at home in San Diego logging mile after mile, I had the blinders
on.
Powerful rewards
It was during the last few years of my pro career that I entered the next stage of an athlete’s journey: the period of deeper benefits. No longer did I equate a hard track workout with the pure speed needed to win races. No longer did I sit on my bike seat for five hours to maintain a base. No longer did I fret over a poor performance. No, for this was a period when I began to measure the benefits of athletic involvement on a deeper scale. A crisp morning run made me appreciate the fact that my legs could still do it. A long bike ride in the backcountry gave
me gratitude and appreciation for the solace of open spaces. An ocean swim in large surf could humble me in a heartbeat.
It is the same for any athletes who stay in sport as they grow and mature. They learn that the many benefits of sport include hidden yet powerful rewards. Feelings of community, shared experience, acceptance, understanding, and knowledge are all somehow woven through a rich and textured existence when sport plays a role in our learning and growth.
I cannot say that all athletes achieve this level. And the lessons learned may not always the same. But if you stay on the path, you will eventually find what you are looking for.
The final resting place on an athlete’s journey is the same as it was in the beginning when, as children, we found the simple act of play would fulfill our sense of wonderment. If we make it this far, and refuse to let society’s “slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,” as Shakespeare would say, keep us from finding again the true innocence and wonderment of play, we will have lived a complete life through our own athlete’s
journey.
|
