I read a lot of articles and watched a lot of interviews this season where athletes talked about perspective. Many of them mentioned their spouses and children as being responsible for keeping them grounded through their efforts in the pursuit of excellence in sport. According to what I read and heard, when being an Olympic Champion comes second to being part of a loving family the wins become more special and the losses are easier to get over.
That sounds great, but as it turns out I am not a wife or a mother. Heck, I don't even have a boyfriend (but I am accepting applications). I can't tell you what it feels like to come off the ice after being crushed by a devastating loss and be consoled by the love of my life. I've never looked up into a crowd to see my kid cheering me on and felt like no matter what happens in the game I'm still going to be somebody's hero at the end of the day.
My perspective comes from somewhere else.
One warm summer night about 9 years ago, I found myself sitting with my dad on the patio of our local pub splitting a pitcher of beer. I don't remember exactly what we were talking about, but something he said has stuck with me all this time. He told me that he and my mom had done their very best to give me every opportunity in life, but that for whatever reason a lot of crappy things just seemed to keep on happening to me. I almost started to cry into my pint glass because I realized that we both felt helpless against the terrible things that life will throw at you despite all of your best efforts.
Things like watching your friends and family members go through cancer. Things like becoming a little too familiar with the feeling of finding out that a loved one has been killed in a car crash. Things like learning that your classmate died in a fire when he wasn't even supposed to be at home. Things like saving your friend from committing suicide. Things like not being able to save your friend from committing suicide. Things like trying to figure out what to do after your friend tells you that she's been raped. Things like finding out the hard way that putting your trust in someone could turn out to be the biggest mistake of your life.
For me, perspective doesn't come from the best days of my life. It didn't happen from reading my wedding vows or holding my newborn baby in my arms because I haven't experienced those things yet. I wouldn't wish my darkest day on my worst enemy, but in a weird way I am grateful for that pain because it has made me who I am. I am a stronger person for having been through hell and back and I know how tough my character is. I know how lucky I am to have so many amazing, loving, supportive people in my life and I don't take them for granted. I know that when times get tough a sense of humour and bit of grit will go a long way.
When it comes to sport (specifically curling) I still take the losses hard, but that's because I'm passionate about what I do. I know in my heart that it isn't life or death. I know that there are more important things than trophies, banners, and glory. My future husband and children may be currently imaginary, but my family, friends, and my goofy dog George are all very real. I know that no matter what obstacles get thrown our way I can count myself lucky for every day that we're all still here.
That, to me, is having perspective.
That sounds great, but as it turns out I am not a wife or a mother. Heck, I don't even have a boyfriend (but I am accepting applications). I can't tell you what it feels like to come off the ice after being crushed by a devastating loss and be consoled by the love of my life. I've never looked up into a crowd to see my kid cheering me on and felt like no matter what happens in the game I'm still going to be somebody's hero at the end of the day.
My perspective comes from somewhere else.
One warm summer night about 9 years ago, I found myself sitting with my dad on the patio of our local pub splitting a pitcher of beer. I don't remember exactly what we were talking about, but something he said has stuck with me all this time. He told me that he and my mom had done their very best to give me every opportunity in life, but that for whatever reason a lot of crappy things just seemed to keep on happening to me. I almost started to cry into my pint glass because I realized that we both felt helpless against the terrible things that life will throw at you despite all of your best efforts.
Things like watching your friends and family members go through cancer. Things like becoming a little too familiar with the feeling of finding out that a loved one has been killed in a car crash. Things like learning that your classmate died in a fire when he wasn't even supposed to be at home. Things like saving your friend from committing suicide. Things like not being able to save your friend from committing suicide. Things like trying to figure out what to do after your friend tells you that she's been raped. Things like finding out the hard way that putting your trust in someone could turn out to be the biggest mistake of your life.
For me, perspective doesn't come from the best days of my life. It didn't happen from reading my wedding vows or holding my newborn baby in my arms because I haven't experienced those things yet. I wouldn't wish my darkest day on my worst enemy, but in a weird way I am grateful for that pain because it has made me who I am. I am a stronger person for having been through hell and back and I know how tough my character is. I know how lucky I am to have so many amazing, loving, supportive people in my life and I don't take them for granted. I know that when times get tough a sense of humour and bit of grit will go a long way.
When it comes to sport (specifically curling) I still take the losses hard, but that's because I'm passionate about what I do. I know in my heart that it isn't life or death. I know that there are more important things than trophies, banners, and glory. My future husband and children may be currently imaginary, but my family, friends, and my goofy dog George are all very real. I know that no matter what obstacles get thrown our way I can count myself lucky for every day that we're all still here.
That, to me, is having perspective.
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| Me and my fur-baby George |
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