(from the When You Think About It Dept.)
Watching 16-year-old Gabby Douglas win all-around gymnastics
gold at the London 2012 Olympics, I thought “What a treat!”—not only for the
beautiful display of her skills, but also for the joy of seeing years of hard
work rewarded.
Then my mind did a double reverse with a half twist and
thought, “Well, the easy part’s over now.” And I don’t mean to disparage the
amount of work Ms. Douglas and all the other Olympians have done just to get to
the Games, let alone medal.
But let’s face it: if you love a sport, are at least
somewhat talented and ambitious, “sacrificing everything” for the goal of
qualifying for the Olympics is a fairly easy task. Like successful dieting or
earning a promotion, the hardest part is making the decision to commit to the
goal.
After that, would-be Olympians simply devote themselves single-mindedly
to their sport. They practice it, develop skills or body mass or whatever is
required. Their focus is narrowed to making the team, then to winning a medal.
Every minute of their day and every aspect of their lives are shaped to
contribute to that achievement.
These dedicated athletes deserve our respect and admiration
for their hard work and the time spent honing their special sporting abilities.
We should admire people willing to
set aside everyday things to become the best they can possibly be. In
gymnastics. In beach volleyball. In dancing horses. In synchronized diving. In
high-jumping and hurdles, archery and skeet, rowing and boxing.
We are lucky to see the results. Yes, after years of doing
only one thing, they have excelled at it.
Aside from the Olympic athletes who are allowed to compete while
pursuing a professional career in their sport, such as basketball and hockey
players, however, how does a person’s life look after winning an Olympic medal?
Some sports allow participation at the champion level for many years, but for
gymnasts and other athletes whose sport requires youth for its highest
performance, the transition to a non-training life may be very difficult.
It is true that many lessons learned and skills developed
during the years of serious training that world class athletes put in can
translate to “ordinary” life. In post-gold interviews, the teen-aged Ms.
Douglas spoke of how valuable her ability to focus would be in the future. She
said that her gymnastics odyssey had taught her to push through the pain and
the difficult times and declared that this lesson would allow her to achieve
anything.
She is, of course, quite likely correct. Persistence is a
valuable attribute for almost any achievement path.
But there are many other attributes people, including these
high-level athletes, also need to make a successful transition to the real
world—and there is no guarantee a single-focus lifestyle allows one to develop
such abilities.
Even the focus and persistence to which Ms. Douglas alluded
may not be as valuable as she hopes it to be.
Because I think it comes down to this: athletes spend years
learning to control themselves—mentally and physically. That control is key to
their success.
In the real world? Not so much. As us ordinary people know,
the vast majority of events and results that determine our lives are beyond our
control. Traffic accidents make you late to work. Career advancement may depend
as much on your ability to play office politics as your ability to perform your
assigned job duties. A sick relative requires your assistance—and suddenly,
you’re doing laundry at 1 a.m. and wondering if you should bother trying to catch
a few hours sleep or not. Does spending five hours a day tweaking hip rotation
for a two-minute performance really prepare you to deliver profits for your
employer day after day after day? Will Ms. Douglas know how to budget time and
money and energy when she has more than one goal demanding her devotion?
Can she remember to pay the mortgage on time, make room in
her schedule for that networking event and manage to get both groceries and her
kid picked up before the day care closes? And can she set aside her own fatigue
and concerns in order to soothe the child who is cranky and ornery when she
does pick him up? Maybe.
But as I watch the astounding performances at the Olympic
venues, I wonder how these hyper-focused and therefore isolated athletes are going
to handle it when, 12 hours after their medal ceremony, the people they meet—in
stores, at school, on the job—respond to them with “Gabby who?” Ms. Douglas’
shining moment means so little to our everyday lives of juggling self, family,
job, finances, health, fashion, politics, school and more, all of which demand
our devoted attention. Simultaneously.
It must be very hard to step back into reality and be
swallowed up by the anonymous crowd of humanity after having worked so hard and
long to stand above it for those few short moments.
