The Secret Of The Olympic Spirit

It never ceases to amaze me what athletes can do when they're sick, injured, or stressed. When outsiders say it's "the grit and determination inside them," I think they're only partially right.

This article is not entirely spurred from this weekend's tragedy at the Olympics, when Georgian luger Nodar Kumaritashvili died during a training run crash, or from the efforts put out by American skier Lindsey Vonn, who will be competing with a severely bruised shin bone.

Instead, these thoughts are spurred by my recent collegiate indoor track and field meet. I've had one of the worst weeks of my college life, and none of it had to do with athletics. A falling-out with my roommate, who also is my sorority sister, made the past seven days almost impossible to get through.

I have spent the past six nights sleeping on the floor of a friend's apartment, precariously perched on couch cushions that her roommates graciously lent to the cause. The stress of the week was so bad that I couldn't complete my weight training workout one day, or a full workout the next. For the cherry on top of the horrible week, I developed a bad cold late Thursday.

I went into the Saturday track meet after no practice for the previous three days, wheezing with a cough, and carting along a box of Kleenex. I am not mentioning this to gain the sympathy vote, or to vent about the week (well, maybe I am a little bit!) but to put things in perspective.

I am a collegiate athlete who had a blip in my life with something as simple as roommate problems.

Lindsey Vonn, the face of the United States for the 2010 Olympic Winter Games, suffered a deep, severe bone bruise on her right shin in a training run February 2. The injury kept her off the slopes for several days, but poor weather conditions have worked in Vonn's favor. She's been able to rest her leg and will likely compete. As the gold medal favorite in the downhill and the Super G skiing events, Vonn has faced adversary before.

In a training run for the downhill event in the 2006 Winter Olympics in Torin, Italy, Vonn suffered severe back injuries in a horrific crash. But with the gritty determination mentioned above, Vonn literally left her hospital bed to compete. Though she fell short of a medal, she earned the USOC Olympic Spirit Award, and earned the admiration of the entire world.

The entire world was shocked when they learned about the death of 21-year-old Georgian luger Nodar Kumaritashvili only hours before the Opening Ceremonies began in Vancouver on 12 February. With the tragedy fresh in their head, Kumaritashvili's teammates marched in the Opening Ceremonies, honoring their comrade with black armbands and a black sash attached to the country's flag.

How can anyone overcome such adversaries to compete in an elite level of sports? Part of it is grit. Athletes are trained to work through injury and pain, not only physically, but mentally as well. When hardship strikes, an athlete is able to move through it.

It takes a special competitor to grit their teeth and descend a slope at breakneck speeds on a bruised back. Oh, and did I mention the turns and jumps that comes with a downhill race?

It takes courage beyond belief to get on a small, lightweight sled protected only by a helmet and streak down an ice chute at 80-miles-per-hour, only days after a fellow athlete met his death at the mercy of the track.

And it takes a lot of DayQuil and Kleenex to be able to sprint a 60-meter race in sub-eight seconds.

I'll let you in on a secret. Being able to run through a chest full of gunk, let alone ski through a bone bruise, takes nothing short of stubbornness.

Athletes train their entire lives to take part in the Olympic Games, a World Cup, a World Series. They will work through pain, ignore stress, and keep moving forward because there is no way in hell, after all the work that is put in during their lives, that they are going to give up.

There is another factor that plays its hand in competition that even a collegiate athlete like myself can relate to.

As I stood behind my blocks just prior to the start of my race, I looked up and saw the blue and gold letters of Northern Arizona University looking down at me from the scoreboard. Even though I was running unattached from my university, the immense amount of pride that I felt to represent my school flowed through me. With the "True Blue NAU" blood flowing through my veins, how could I not do my school proud?

So, I gritted my teeth (literally) got in my blocks, then stretched into the set position.

This will be a similar sight in the next two weeks, and in the next several decades of sports. Athletes bracing for the crack of the starting gun, posing for the start of the music, and waiting for the blast of the whistle.

They will do it with bruised shins, broken hearts, torn ACLs, flu symptoms. They will do it even if they barely made it through qualifying rounds. They will do it despite the slip on the ice after a jump, the breaking of the knees in moguls, the missed target after skiing biathlon.

They will do it out of stubbornness. Out of grit and determination. Out of resilience. Out of revenge. Out of passion.

And they will do it out of the pride that comes from seeing their country's flag waving in the crowd. They will do it out of the pride that comes from wearing the letters of their nation across their chest.