Yeah, But Olympians are Weirdos
If you thought I was going to criticize Simone Biles for dropping out of competition based on her mental health, you obviously don’t read anything I write. This isn’t about her, or pressure, or whether or not the Olympics are entertaining. This is my biannual conundrum when the games appear on my TV. My question is always this: What is up with these people?
I didn’t start watching the Olympics until 1996. I passed on them until my wife insisted that we watch the gymnastics and swimming in Atlanta, and since then I have always tried to squeeze in some games/matches/competitions whenever I can. They are a unique look into other microcommunities that get almost no attention until there is a gold medal on the line. Plus, I don’t mind saying, these people are freaks. The Olympic Games are a freakshow with almost no body fat.
They don’t do it for the money. There is some money to be made, but that’s not why you swim 1000 laps a week or throw the shotput. You don’t run the 10,000-meter race for big bucks. They do it for the chance to win. I think. Right? That has to be the factor we can’t see, and it has to be so alluring that they can’t resist. That has to be the thing that motivates them to abstain from all the normal joys of life, in the hopes that they at least come in third when it counts the most. I don’t look at the champions that much anymore. I think of the swimmers that come in sixth and seventh place in the butterfly. They had all the same training and hopes and dreams but they lost. It’s a gamble that some of us cannot understand.
There was an ad campaign this year that featured one of the athletes speaking so outrageously serious when he talked about inspiring others. “Just find something you’re passionate about, then be the best in the world at it.” Hey. Listen. I know I’m just a nobody with no gold medals, but that is shitty advice. The first half is great. Passion is a wonderful thing. But be the best in the WORLD? At what? Accounting? Being a teacher or a surgeon? Baking bread or carpentry? Even if those things could somehow be measured, who really gives a shit? Being the best in the world assumes there is a competition present. A great many of life’s endeavors have no competition. The best implies a title, and a title just means everyone knows you are the best. That type of excellence requires an audience. Plus, it’s always short-lived. What’s more inspiring, a world record holder that loses the record in two years or a teacher grinding and doing a great job in obscurity for 40 years?
But I don’t want to insult these weirdos too much. I want to know what separates them from us. They know about hard work. I get that. I also understand there are more rewards in life that aren’t based in hard work. So, they are making a trade-off. But that’s not unique. A lot of us do that.
What is it, then? I think I have a clue. It’s pain. Physical pain. Some of these Olympians are children that have learned to tough it out and persevere through catastrophic injuries, surgeries, rehabilitation. It’s an aspect of their lives that most of us try to avoid. That is a special thing.
“If it hurts that bad, why the hell are you doing it?”
“I want the shiny medal!”
“Okay…I guess…”
I think that’s the disconnect. I guess I could learn from them and endure a little more pain myself so I can get in better shape. But I’m doing that for me. I’m doing that for blood flow, not glory. Don’t need it, don’t want it.
Olympians will continue to baffle me year after year, and I truly hope people are inspired by their weirdness. There is an adage that comes to mind. Sometimes hard work looks like magic. In fact, any and all magic in real life is the direct result of someone’s hard work. If that’s the inspiration, then I’m all for it.